Love and Hate
by Eric Blair
Summary: Kirai, Kirei. A series of one shots focusing on the duality of Asuka's feelings for Shinji. Session the 50th: La opera e finita.
1. Session the 1st This feeling & his hands

She hates the feeling she gets whenever she sees him.

She tries to say it's really because he's a wimpy whiny brat.

She tries to believe that it's because she just doesn't have the patience, nor the presence of mind to deal with him.

But it's really a different kind of feeling.

It feels as if her lungs were filled with quick sand, feeling them burn for no apparent reason at all, feeling the quicksand flow up towards her throat, closing it, constricting it, making it hard for her to breath. Then going higher and higher, closing her pores, making her eyes burn too, feeling the breath leaving her body, and then a hot waxy feeling leaking other eyes.

She tries to choke it, and she tries to convince herself it because of the smog and dust and heat.

But the lingering feeling in her heart tells her otherwise.

------------------------

She loves his hands.

She would never say so out loud, but she has always admired those hands.

Small, thin fingers that always were expertly plucking at the strings of his cello. Agile, nimble hands that were able to create a delicious meal even if all they had in the pantry was miso and noodles.

The same fingers that had at times saved her, at times embraced her, and still other times, times that felt like nightmares chocked her. The same hands that would nervously clench and unclench that could throw tables and chairs and ask for forgiveness.

She catches him quietly humming to the tone of his cello, the same earthly grand noble melody with just a hint of sadness and melancholy.

And she can't help but clap.


	2. Session the 2nd Beer & her room

She hates beer.

She knows it's an oxymoron, mainly because of herself. A German would never utter those words, would never harbor those feelings. So she tries to be a westerner thru and true; Loud and brash, not caring for the feelings of others; She thinks the looks should match the attitude.

And she already knows everyone thinks of her that way.

Still, she hates beer, because it's a reminder of _her_; the one who got close to him before her, the one who gets to be open and happy and true.

The one who can flirt and tease him, and whose only response would be a gawk, a hushed _'eep'_, a bashful smile and a sheepish rubbing of the back of his neck.

She would kill just to be the one he directed his eyes to.

----- -----

She loves her room.

Not because it's bigger than that cupboard he had to take (and after all, as a gentleman he should have offered first), and not because it allows her to seek sanctuary from the tough everyday goings of her life, her responsibilities.

Her lies and posturing and facades.

She loves it because during the last hours of the afternoon, just before the sun starts to set, and colors the sky with a yellowish-orangeish-reddish-purpleish-blackish hue, the evening breeze will make her room smell like the first time she set foot in it.

She will then walk out the windows, and gaze at the darkening sky, close her eyes and just let the smell envelope her, closing her eyes with a contented sigh as she crashes on her bed glomping her pillow a tad to fiercely for a girl like her.

Because all of it; the night breeze, and the room and the pillow where she cries herself to sleep at times still smells like him.


	3. Session the 3rd Fish & Tea

She hates fish.

She always tells him that she is sick and tired of rice and fish, and how she would prefer sauerkraut and sausages.

In actuality, it's the lidless, soulless eyes that enrage her, that make her insides revolt. Eyes so glassy, so devoid of life and emotion it's like watching a doll, and the mouth always hanging open.

Reminds her so much of being hanged.

But it's easier for her to turn this around, to blame him for his choice of food, to cast aspersions for his heritage.

And in doing so, to try and make herself forget a part of her; the part that still cries at nights, that is afraid of dolls and fishes, the part that gives him a shy, quiet smile whenever he's not looking.

The part of her that is the same as his whole self.

----- -----

She loves tea.

She drink the cup in front of her, glad that she stopped in the small café to ask for it, the warmth of it already spreading to cover her like a blanket against the coldness from the rain that decided to drop by.

She loves the taste of dark brown leaves, of dark blue berries; she loves the earthly scent of the cinnamon, the crisp, clear smell of spearmint, the sugary sweet after taste of milk and honey and sugar.

Bitter and sweet and sugary and spicy.

And when she walks back home she catches a glimpse of his retreating form. So brief she wonders if it was wishful thinking.

Until the bittersweet smell of the cup with green tea he left for her tells her it wasn't.


	4. Session the 4th Heat & water

She hates this stupid heat.

Day in and day out, she has to walk under the morning sun, then under the scorching afternoon.

Classes are damp and hot, and she hates the feeling of her skirt sticking to her butt. So she cherishes the hour of lunch for the freedom it gives her, for the chance to be under the cherry tree, for the wonderful way the wind feels while blowing.

But what she hates more is the heat she feels in her face, in her cheeks, in her body, starting at the pit of her stomach and spreading from there into parts she would prefer not to think of, because good girls don't think about things like those.

Only perverted idiots like him.

So of course it's his fault when she looks at him and the heat feels like she has a thousand suns under her skin.

----- -----

She loves the way the water caresses her skin, sliding down her throat, splashing her flushed cheeks and making the heat of the outside world just a hint bearable.

She walks back to the line of girls waiting for their turn to participate in the exercise chosen by the gym teacher, and she knows that splashing water was for naught since she will be sweaty and stinky and sticky again.

So when she walks back to the classroom, after winning (_yet again_) on that stupid contest (_What did they expected, she is after all Asuka Langley Sohryu_), she stops by the water fountain to have a drink, grabbing a strand of coppery red hair and pulling it over her ear absently.

The water feels refreshing and as she splashes some more on her flushed face, and reaches for her shirt to dry her face, she is surprised When she reaches her desk and catches Shinji, leaving a towel and a bottle of cold water for her before walking out the other door.

And she can't help but smile, despite feeling once again her face and cheeks heat up.


	5. Session the 5th Being sorry & rain

She hates it when he says he's sorry.

He will tremble and look at her with those big sad blue eyes, almost as if you were stepping on his heart rather than telling him to stand up for himself.

He will lower his head and mutter the apology, almost as if he didn't wanted you to notice, trying to shrink all of himself. She will then explode at him, call him a useless stupid pervert, a wimp with no backbone. And he will take it without saying anything else but sorry.

But in reality, she is the one who is sorry, sorry for saying those words, for not being able to control her temper; sorry for being so hurtful, so prideful, so mean. Sorry for him being the one to always say sorry, which leaves her being the one who has to be strong, impenetrable, a rock for the waves to crash against.

And she is so tired of being so strong.

----- -----

She loves it when it rains; the school will get fresher (_which is always a plus when she has to clean up_), and the smell of fresh damp soil and dew covered leaves has always been a nice memory for her.

She likes the feeling of cleanliness she gets just by seeing the clear water drops falling one after the other, the shushing, calming effect it has on her, her own personal relaxation; just staring out for long, endless hours watching the rain fall down, watching the day flows by with the rain.

She loves the fresh breeze that flows by prior to the rain falling down, and just after it has stopped, not cold, but chilly enough to make her forget the warmth.

And she loves it the most when she has to stay for cleanup, because he will be waiting for her at the school entrance, ready to share his umbrella (_because she always "forgets" hers_).

And she has to fight the dumb smile and tall tale blush on her face as she walks so close to him she can smell the rain in his hair.


	6. Session the 6th Running away & lavender

She hates when he runs away.

She has watched him so very often, hiding in his room, or muting the world with his music; closing himself to anyone, to everyone.

He builds a wall as high and as deep as his feelings of self-pity, it's an impossible task for anyone to try and breach it. He tries to detach himself, since whenever he gets close to someone; he always ends up hurting them.

And deep within the pit of her stomach, she can feel that if only she had been more supportive, or had chosen her words in any other form, he would still be here next to her, flinching and whining but making her feel whole and complete.

And then, just like that, she sees the thin, pasty white arms of the angel in front of her become longer and thinner and rigid, and shoot straight at her face.

----- -----

She loves the smell of lavender.

A smell so ethereal and intoxicating, she can't help but connect it to being a woman. No wonder She would use it; After all, Kaji would never see her like a woman unless she starts to behave like a one.

She remembers her mother growing lavenders near in a green house; they would grow wild in the gardens. Her mother would use the flower spikes for dried flower arrangements. The fragrant, pale purple flowers and flower buds were used in potpourris. Dried and sealed in pouches, they were then placed among stored items of clothing to give a fresh fragrance and as a deterrent to moths.

So now as she sees him again, for the first time after he came back, she can't help but smile wistfully as he changes his month old clothes into fresh ones.

And the lavender wafts again into the air.


	7. Session the 7th Mornings & her tree

She hates the mornings.

She has never been much of a morning person; letting go of dreams isn't easy.

But it helps if the night before her dreams were plagued by nightmares.

In any event, she despises waking up early, and finds great comfort in drawing a warm bath to let the soreness, the tiredness of laying down on her back, of tossing and turning in her sleep, go away.

She gets out feeling refreshed, and she hums on reflex as she combs her hair, in the same way her mother used to do so.

And as she opens the door to his room, and gazes at his sleeping form, the calm tranquility in his face, the way his mouth is slightly open, the soft snores coming from him, she feels guilty for waking him up.

That's probably what she hates the most.

----- -----

She loves sitting down under her tree.

Not a lot of people are aware, but this is her safe heaven, her reserved space.

The dorks can have the low ground, and the stooges always go to the roof.

Wondergirl can stay in the stuffy hot classroom for all she cares.

But it's under the Sakura tree that she feels truly at peace, at eats for the duration of the lunch hour. Nothing can touch her here; no one can anger her with stupid statistics and grades.

For just a brief moment she entertains the notion of not being herself, of being someone else.

But then she sees him walking to her tree, carrying the bentos he always does.

And so she smiles and gratuitously lets him step into her universe, breach her sanctuary and sit with her.

In her tree.


	8. Session the 8th Reluctance & being No 1

She hates it when he's so wishy washy; she even hates that term.

Day in and day out she often asks herself why can't he be more assertive?, why do the roles have to be reversed?

It not fair for her to be the aggressor; she tried it with Kaji and it never worked out.

So why is it that he can't take the first step?

She opens the door and makes up her mind, and slowly pit-pats to where he is sleeping, and without any consideration plops right next to him. She feels her shorts riding up a bit, flashing a bit more of thigh than she feels comfortable with. She also feels the strap of her tank top slowly sliding down, revealing a bit more of cleavage than she would like.

And she feels his eyes bugging out.

She feels his breath slowly inching towards her, tickling her lips, making her skin get goose bumps.

And when she hears him rustle away and plop a few feet away, she sighs, and turns around, anger marring her features.

Why can't he take his chance?

Tomorrow, he'll have hell to pay.

----- -----

She loves being the first.

For some one as ambitious, as driven and as proud as her, second place is the first loser.

All of her life has been centered about being the best, and being the best is always being the first, because everyone else will always use you as a reference in the future, so if you truly are the best, you have to be the first.

There is no room for second chances, she knows this the minute she decides to go for it, if she blows it (_which she won't_) there won't be a reprise (_unless she chooses for it to be_).

And with that in mind, she closes the gap, holds her breath and clenches his nose.

She can taste the surprise in his gasp, and can feel his breath against her own.

He tastes sweet and sour, but not like Chinese food or anything, he just simply tastes like himself…

Like honey with a hint of cinnamon; like French toast. Like gingersnaps or like kiwi.

And she hopes that strawberry toothpaste really pays off.

Because she is his first.


	9. Session the 9th Uniforms & videogames

She hates the stupid school uniforms.

The jumper is ugly, and unflattering, and the gym one confirms what she suspected all along; that Japanese, boys in particular, are just big, fat perverts.

Seriously. Once, during her stay at TUB she had escaped from her Section 2 escort, and had wandered into an animation club. She had seen those animated shorts, tentacles groping and prodding and _oh my God what are those things doing to that girl? Cartoons aren't supposed to be like that!! _(_So, when her escort finally caught up with her, she was wary at first, after all he was Japanese_)

So she was wary of anything Japanese, especially boys, cartoons and school uniforms.

So she hates the stupid jumper because it's ugly (_A jumper?? Please! A Blazer and skirt combination would be better_), unflattering (_Green-Blue? A subtle navy or royal blue would bring out her eyes_), and the gym uniform overall confirms that Japanese, boys in particular, are big fat perverts.

But she can't stop feeling good with herself when she catches Shinji stealing glances at her as she crosses her legs and her skirt hikes up, or as she runs around the gym area in those gym shorts (_specially some bouncing parts_)

----- -----

She loves her video game console.

Baka has his SDAT, and Misato her beers (_And as for Wondergirl, she can read to her hearts contents_) and really she can't, for the life of her, understand the validity of one (_because she really shouldn't say anything about getting drunk)_

So she takes it upon herself to show Shinji how liberating blasting off alien ships can be (_and it makes for great eye-hand coordination_) And in the quiet afternoon of a lazy Saturday with Misato at NERV and no synch tests and school and angels to worry about, they spend the next hour (_or 3 or 5_) fighting against each other, and then working with each other; quipping and bickering and blaming each other every time the other one dies, and laughing and giggling and over all enjoying the time (_5 hours, 42 minutes and counting_) and the food (_chips and sodas_)

And she can't help but, after the marathon session fall on her back, same as Shinji, spent mentally and physically just like him.

And in a residual echo of the synch training, both brush their fingertips gently together, shuddering at the electricity that passes thru.

Before getting up, ready for another go at the poor, abused video game console.


	10. Session the 10th White & Red

It's not that she hates the color red. Quite the contrary, In fact, as she loves the color red.

After all, if anyone wasasked, the color they would use to describe her would be Red.

But she hates Valentines Day.

What good is it to have a million ways to say I love you (_Ai? She hates it, Koi? Feels bland_) if the Japanese don't say "I love you" as often as Western people do?

"Because of cultural differences." Baka-Shinji will say (_so she is not surprised when he says he has never used that expression in his life_)

It's the same as with the color red. Aka, huiro (_vermilion_), akaneiro (_madder red_), enji (_dark red_), karakurenai (_crimson_) and hiiro (_scarlet_). different ways to virtually describe her.

However, Red holds a special meaning for her, especially when she sees Baka-Shinji coming to her (_their_) tree with her bento (_their bento_) under his arm, while holding a package of chocolate and a bewildered expression on his face.

"Don't tell me some one actually gave you some giri-choco, Baka."

Shinji is blushing and stuttering. "I-I found it in my locker, no card or signature, simply sitting there with a tag with a kiss printed in it in bright re-" He stops, squinting at her.

"Hey, why are your lips so red?"

_Gott,_ she hates the color Red.

----- -----

It's not that she hates the color white.

It's just that she really, REALLY hates the color white.

For one it's too bland, too pasty, too chalky.

For the other it reminds her of _those_ two.

And lastly, it reeks of obligation. She also hates the concept of "_giri_" (_and, no, she'd never use honmei)_, because it's as Japanese as Japanese can be. If he is going to give her something, it better be because he wants to, not because of obligation.

Because she didn't spend that long hour waiting in line at the supermarket, behind those crying babies (_they were tempting her to poke her own ears out with her pencil_) and in front of the idiot from class 3-C leering at her (_Good thing he's left handed, as writing with a broken wrist can be hard_) just so he feels obligated to get her something (_even if it's supposed to be three times the value of what she got_) and-

Here he is, prompt as always, sitting next to him (_he no longer stand there like a lost puppy waiting for her to tell him to sit_), and as she opens the carefully wrapped bento box, the first thing she notices is the red plum and the white rice.

It looks like the Japanese flag.

And she remembers the meaning behind it all.

Kouhaku.

And then, just as suddenly, he is giving her a red and white wrapped box, and she can see his trembling hand, and his throat looks like stone, and he is not even looking at her.

And she lets her red hair fall on her white skin to try and stop the blush as she sees the white chocolate and red charms bracelet he has given her.

Because she hears Misato's words rushing back.

"Japanese generally don't express their love openly. They believe that love can be expressed by manners."


	11. Session the 11th Idiot Stooges

It's been almost a minute and she already hates those idiots.

It only takes a brief glance at them from atop of the _Over the Rainbow_ (_And really, who came out with that pansy name for a boat?_) for her to realize those 3 boys still haven't reached their full idiotic potential.

The dork with the camera and fatigues screams _Otaku!_ loud and clear. She knows for a fact that NERV would never use a pilot wearing glasses, and the way he is overenthusiastic about the army and the planes and the boat? Please, the minute he sees an angel he'll piss in his pants.

The tall monkey suited one might have delusions of grandeur, of being the ringleader of the little motley crew he has (_He is, after all, taller than them all and probably stronger too_), but she sees right thru him, he's the type who will posture and appear brash and arrogant, but really, like any guy, a simple smile, a flirty wink and he'll be putty in any woman's hand.

She just needs to see at the way he is seeing Misato to have her theory proved right.

But it's really the third one she hates the most; all gentle smiles, and soulful eyes, the hunched shoulders and paused steps; the way he stands in the background, letting everyone walk away as he calmly steps down (_And when he stretches she can see he has a wiry built_); He's the epitome of chivalry.

And somehow, she can't stop thinking about those things as she walks down to meet _him_.

_And of course she meant them._

----- -----

It's been almost 3 years and she still hates those idiots. Every day, every hour during school and after she has to suffer their presence.

Take today, for instance; officially, school's over, so of course She told Hikari to come with her to the local restaurant to get something to celebrate.

And it was only natural that she brings Shinji along. After all, who else will carry her books (_Not that she complains_) and pay for her lunch (_Not that he minds_)?

And as she sees the class reps pigtailed figure come nearer and nearer, her smile will fade, and she feels his hand slowly slipping away, letting go of her own hand,

Just the fingertips are touching now and in just mere seconds, it's back to business mode.

And her smile fades.

Of course she had to bring in her big dumb jock.

And Osaka (_The name somehow fits_) has to bring his chew toy to have some one to take his anger on (_Because of course, if he were to have a civil conversation he would never go past the simple words_)

And the Geek just had to bring in Rei because he wanted to record the pilots off-duty (_She suspects it has more to do with those nasty rumors about an underground picture ring than anything else_)

And He _just had to set Baka next to Wonder girl._

So as Shinji sits down next to Rei he flashes a quick small smile at Asuka, who _just so happens_ to be seated in front of him.

And she relaxes as he kicks her foot playfully, and the begin to play footsies under the table.

And, sometimes, even she has to agree those idiots are not _that _bad.


	12. Session the 12th Fate & facts

She hates fate.

Call it chance, details, little things, the stitch that ends up unraveling your shirt; the best laid plans gone awry. Call it what you will, she hates them all.

She hates them because they are the odd ends; the lucky strike, something tugging at you; something that feels small and unimportant, but that is there none the less; like a rip in her shirt, or a neck bone itching to be cracked. And just like that it starts to get bigger and bigger, and then it swallows her whole.

And in accordance to Murphy's Law this happens at the worst possible time, and there is no one to blame, nowhere to hide.

She is standing here for him to see, and there is no shrill scream or "pervert" no full blown rant, not even an act of god (_Technically an angel_) that will save her now.

Because she's just been found out with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Sohryu…why are you slipping that letter it into Ikari's locker?"

She's embarrassed, and still hopes that in the next couple of seconds her phone and Rei's start ringing, followed by the blare of the sirens of Tokyo 3.

----- -----

She loves facts.

For her gifted brain, her unequalled intellectual capabilities, facts are the foundation of the things she believes in; Fact are simple truths, they are easy to understand.

You can't argue with cold hard logic, with unemotional numbers: if herscore is 82, then, guess what? it'll still be 82 (_not 81 ¾ _) And if his score was 78 (_or 78.47822150 and a whole lot more numbers_) then guess what? it'll still be 78.

And in the grand scale of things to be measures, 82 is above 78; so she is above him.

She loves the fact that she comes on top, but she also loves the simplicity behind it all.

She has the best synch-score, therefore she is the best pilot.

She is the best pilot, ergo she is number one.

It's simple, absolute truths like this the ones that make her life valid, worth living, worthwhile.

And as they both walk to the locker rooms to take a shower and rinse out the LCL, she can see him rolling his eyes good naturedly as she boast and gloats, until at last she tires him with her incessant talk.

So he pushes her against the lockers and forcefully silences her with his mouth, and as the kiss deepens and the feelings flare, and he finally, _finally _(_dammit!_) relinquish his hold on her lips, she has a mischievous smile, and a tall-tale twinkle in her eyes.

She loves him. He loves her. Simple; easy to understand.

Absolute.


	13. Session the 13th Granted things & home

She hates taking things for granted.

She took her mama for granted; never thought there would be a day without her in the future; was so sure that she would be there the following morning, with a hot cup of chocolate and the biscuits she knew Asuka loved.

She took Childhood for granted, believing she would always be a child, that Misato will be there with her forever. That changed one morning when Misato went back to Japan and she was introduced to Kaji.

She took Kaji for granted, believing he would love her like she loved him, and now she sees he actually loved her like she loved him; like family, like a daughter.

So when she sees Shinji once again, after being months away from him, she want to break free, to run and embrace him with so much force she will hear his bones break, so intimately he will be like a tattoo against her skin

She wants to dry her tears with his hair.

She wants to kiss him with so much force she'll take his breath away.

She will not take him for granted.

----- -----

She loves it when he arrives home.

She remembers the first time she saw him. She had just received all of her boxes with her important stuff. She was simply placing them around Misato's apartment when she heard the rustling of the door.

He entered without a care in the world, smiling, humming talking to himself in low, hushed tones. She kept looking at him, toweling her hair dry as he smiled softly to himself, not noticing or caring for all the boxes strewn around.

And there was something there, something easy, something whimsical. Something that was hard for her to understand and explain and put in words, but was easy feeling, natural.

It felt like home.

_Tadaima._

And she knew, right then and there, she wanted to hear him say it again, whenever he came home.


	14. Session the 14th In a perfect world

_The "Hate" part is based on Hououza__'s "In a perfect world Revised"; excellent story, BTW._

Right now, she hates the clock on the wall. It's right in front of her, and she feels it's mocking her.

Her rational mind, the one that scored a 133 on the I.Q. test, the genius at work, the gifted student (_just don't ask about the Kanji_) tells her it's simply an inanimate object; man-made to mark the passage of time. It's telling her to stop feeling threatened by it.

And another minute goes by.

But it's not her mind, it's her feelings; one is telling her to stop being such a baby (_and she can almost hear her mama's voice there_). To stop feeling left out; she has known the idiot for so long her fears are absolutely unfounded and childish.

But it's the other small voice the one that worries her; the unspoken, unwilling voice that wakes her at night after seeing him in her dreams, that make her breath come short whenever he comes into view.

The one that tell her that, regardless of what happens after his date, everything will change.

And then the chimes of the front door mix with the chimes of the clock, and she turns around with a smile forcing itself to be a smile.

He's finally here.

----- -----

She loves ice cream.

It's cool and refreshing and sweet and friendly. It can be bitten, or turned into a shake to be drink, it can be something to share between friends.

And it's a perfect first date treat.

She loves the fact that it's also the perfect way to playfully flirt with him; he'll ask for vanilla (_he's a vanilla kind of guy_) and she'll ask for the strawberry one (_because it's sweet and tangy and red_) and then she'll steal a lick or two from his, twirling her tongue and drawing lazy circles and doing that moan in the back of her throat she knows he likes so (_and she loves it that he loves it so_).

And he'll watch with rapture and fascination, and she'll blink innocently and ask him what wrong. And then she'll accuse him of being a _hentai_ and he'll frown and look away and she'll smile to herself and think of a way to make it up to him without being too obvious.

And then, at the end of the day she'll remember his look and smile to herself.

Ice cream really is the best.


	15. Session the 15th Sorry & cold nights

_As an anticipated easter egg (because I'll be taking the weekend off) here another one for all of you._

She hates saying she's sorry just as much as saying thank you, and it's not because she is ungrateful (_although lately it seems so hard to be grateful about anything at all_).

It's just that, for her, to say thank you is a sign of accepting someone's help, and that's something she'll never do; she's the great Asuka Langley Sohryu, she doesn't need anyone, in any way, or any form.

And saying sorry is accepting she messed up, and that's something that'll she never accept; she's perfect; she was born to be perfect; she might be Japanese, German and American, but deep down inside, she's like a Spartan; born, breed and raised to never give up, to fight no matter what.

So here she is, standing outside the men's bath, wrapped in a thin Yukata (_so thin she can feel the cold air on her skin giving her Goosebumps all around_) wondering if it's the right thing to do, if it's not a sign of failure, of accepting she's not that good.

And when he walks out and catches her fidgeting and flasher he a warm, comforting smile,

And she can't help but feel alleviated.

His smile will do that to her.

----- -----

She loves the chilly nights of Tokyo 3.

Mama will be at work, which means she'll be able to go to Shinji's place. She smiles at the idea, and dresses up quickly, putting on some drawstring pants and a red sports top, a light jacket offering protection to the wind that blows on the corridors.

He will open the door and smile at her, and she'll see him blush when she flashes a smile (_and probably something else_) and then she will call him names.

And they will spend the rest of the night playing video games and watching movies and as midnight rolls over they will both go out to the veranda and watch the city lights against the black night.

The wind will pick up and they will both enjoy the view, the sounds and the night. And she will shiver and sneeze, and he turn to look at her with concern. She will smile and wave it off, but he will gently, _oh so gently_, hug her by the shoulders to share their body heat.

And she will rest her head against his shoulder, close her eyes and sigh.

She really does love the chilly Tokyo 3 nights.


	16. Session the 16th Synch training & ramen

She hates the stupid synch training.

Why do they need a third pilot? The have her after all. (_And, really, shouldn't that be more than enough?_) So what do they need any of those two sad, pathetic excuses for pilots then?

But, then again, she thinks as she takes one look at that pale, chalky skin, the dull, red eyes and the blank, non-committed expression of the other pilot in their roster, she can't really say who is worst, the animated turnip or the doll.

So she goes back to sleep, and just as she is stretching before plopping down on her futon, she sees Shinji mimicking her moves, and then she feels the need to stretch even more which ends up with her tank top riding up, her taut, flat tummy flashing, and a sudden nose bleed from the pervert.

So of course she has to hit him back.

It's the morning of the 4th days and sometimes it feels like there is something, an odd hard to describe feeling there (_she hopes it's really the remnants of Misato's cooking_) that will at times feel like a pain in her chest, and at times like the pull of gravity against her self; a feeling of becoming one, of synching with him.

And as she cautiously opens her eyes and looks at his sleeping face, she can't help but smile.

And then, as if in synch, he is smiling for her too.

----- -----

She loves the ramen stand.

Don't get her wrong, she still hates Japanese food (_Buckwheat and soy? What the hell kind of diet is that_?) but she likes this particular ramen stand.

Misato brought them once after the whole "Catch-the-angel-with-your-hands" plan _(Nice plan, She can see why Misato is Tactical, not!_) and ever since she has began to come here more often, especially when she just wants some alone time to think her thoughts thru.

So of course she is mortified when she sees Shinji sitting here alone, and she feels her face go red when the old man simply smiles, shrugs and places her usual bowl next to him.

She sighs and seats next to him and quietly begins to eat. The old man places a small plate of skewered eels and they eat in silence, an enjoyable silence, but a tense silence nonetheless.

And as she reaches for the last he reaches at the same time, and their hands touch and he says, blushing, she can go ahead, she can take the last one.

And, against her betterjudgment, she smiles backs and tells him she can share. (_Just don't get used to it Baka!_)

And the smile he gives her almost makes it so hard to get mad at him, again.

_Almost._


	17. Session the 17th Perfect & red hair

She hates the fact that he's not perfect.

Worst, she knows he's not perfect, and she really hates the fact that it doesn't bug her as it should.

And it's not like it's a big shocker; if given the chance, she knows he'll cry and whimper and bitch and moan. He'll run away from any responsibility, or ask for forgiveness even when he's not at fault. He's unreliable, and he cries like a girl. (_In fact, she's pretty sure that if they were ever in a relationship, she will be the one wearing the trousers_)

But there are times she is able to catch glimpses of his true self; how he makes sure both her and Misato are well feed and clothed and this becomes more apparent when she realizes she can't cook (_He is better_) she can't clean (_He does it too_) She doesn't even know how her clothes are always freshly washed and pressed (_But she suspects Baka will make a great housewife someday_); The passion with which he plays, the fierceness with which he'll fight (_sometimes_).

But most of the times, all she remembers are his eyes; the windows to his soul: eyes do deep and blue and sad and happy…

She knows he's not perfect, and she really hates that fact.

But she still can't help but love him.

----- -----

She loves her red, long hair.

"_Asuka, are you almost done?"_

It's a symbol, an avatar of who she is. Back at school when she was first transferred here, that was the first thing that made her stand up; against a sea of black and brown she, Asuka Langley Sohryu would stand out (_well, Wondergirl would too, but then again she would stand up anywhere, right?_)

"_Asuka, you're gonna use up all the hot water!!"_

She really couldn't blame them all for being fixated on her; tall and thin with long legs that seemed to go on forever (_as well as "other" attributes_); bright sapphire blue eyes that could pull you deep; but in reality it _was_ the hair: long red tresses, the color of the dawning or setting sun (_and you know how big is the sun for Japan_).

"_Asuka, I really need to pee!"_

She would pull it back and use her mother's A-10s; she would let it down after bathing, enjoying the feeling of it's dampness, it's coolness against her skin. She would spend hours upon hours brushing it to perfection, just like her mother used to do.

"_All right, all rigth hold yer horses Baka!"_

And so, now, as she exits the bath clad in only a towel; she wordlessly, giddily goes over to Shinji and sits in front of him, molding her back to his chest.

She doesn't need words, because he loves it too, and as he smiles silently, he begins to brush her hair.

And sometimes, Shinji can't help but laugh as she moans, like a kitten being pet.


	18. Session the 18th Kanji & Nerv

She hates the damn Kanji.

She still can't understand how, for a country as advanced as Japan they still use pictures and sticks and ink blots to write.

Worst, she can't understand how something that sounds like a baby mumbling around a pacifier can bee so alien to the eyes (_moonspeak indeed_) Or how they are supposed to remember all those symbols. Why are Japanese so strange? A technologically advanced and perverted country (_where else can you find a canned coffee vending machine next to a soda vending machine next to a beer vending machine, next to a girl's panties wearing machine?_) where doors and locks are unheard of (_and you sit and eat and sleep on the floor_) but who pay so much respect to taking a bath (_sitting in a stool? What the hell is this?_) and in calligraphy (_so what if her Kanji is sketchy and messy?_)?

But as she sits next to Shinji, and as he carefully glides her hand with his own, teaching the correct procedure to writing, she can't help but think.

_Maybe it's not that bad._

----- -----

She loves the long corridors of Nerv.

Well, not really, they are bland and blank and devoid of personality and boring.

But it all depends on whose by your side while you're navigating thru them.

Walking next to Misato, listening to her explanation of tactics and procedures and those embarrassing stories of her youth in the Germany Academy.

Walking next to Kaji, her arm tightly bound around his arm; enjoying the looks of jealousy (_It's disapproval, Sohryu. Shut up, doll!_), his conversations, the way he would casually stroll and talk and how he would stop meters before arriving to Katsuragi's door.

But the best of all are the walks held with Shinji; on the good days she would talk and he would listen; she would gloat and he would stay quiet.

On the bad days she would limp, or stop by the walls and lean on them and let the tears fall freely and he would support her, put his arm around her waist, or simply hold her, never uttering a word.

And on the best days he would walk next to her, flustered and embarrassed and blushing, as her hand will hold his, and her fingers will gently intertwine with his.


	19. Session the 19th Kids & dancing

She hates Kids.

She remembers she once had asked Kaji over a "friendly" cup of tea (_She plans to suppress all future mentions of her crush for him_) what were the things he liked and disliked (_And no, she wasn't pumping him for information_) and, after careful consideration summed it up with a succinct "Women with attitude, pets and kids."

She understands now all of it; the first part is easy; after all, if she had to use a word to describe Misato it would certainly be Attitude (_And she tries so hard to quench the small voice telling her she is just like Misato_).

_"So, you know Kaji-Sempai?" "More like Kaji-No-Baka"_

Pets; she remembers once, during their on the _Over the Rainbow_ Kaji had foregone the long trousers, and spend the day lounging in beachwear (_And no, she is not fantasizing nor drooling about the memory_), and she noticed a scar on his left leg. When she asked him about it he had simply grumbled "penguin" and said no more.

_"Eww! What is that third child?" "Ahh…that's Pen-pen…a ping-" "I know WHAT he is!"_

And as for kids, she never knew why.

_"Y-you mean you're pre-"_

But as she feels the pain in her lower stomach, the spasm and _painpainpainpain-_

_Baka!! __This is your fault!!"_

And then, she hears the soft sobbing, the whimpering and crying, and as she holds the baby in her arms, a million names flowing around (_Kami? Mai? Terri? Yuu? _) a thousand feelings on her soul, she suddenly knows, amongst her tears that Kaji _is just like Shinji_ (_He's such an idiot_)

Because how can you hate your own flesh and blood?

----- -----

_AN: Brownie points to whomever can correctly guess where the names for the newborn baby came from._

_----- -----_

She loves Dancing.

She knows her body was made, and toned to show off; to sashay, to marvel and entice, treating a mere boardwalk like a catwalk.

But she loves to dance; to twirl.

She is lithe and flexible (_8 years of rhythmic gymnastic will do wonders for you_) and with the proportion needed to fill any dress nicely (_"I not only have gotten bigger, but my figure has gotten fuller as well"_) so she can't help but giggle when Kaji takes her hand and twirls her around at the entrance of the Christmas party (_It's a good thing they changed supreme commanders_)

She is having a great time, despite Kaji being with Misato (_Asuka thinks she might just be getting a cue as to who Kaji really loves_) and she being the only other pilot here (_Asuka doesn't want to think of the feelings she gets whenever she imagines Shinji and Rei together)_

So when Kaji brings a blushing Shinji who muster up courage and asks her if she would like to dance, she smiles and drags him to the floor, lifting his arm and twirling underneath it as they approach the dance floor. He smiles and explains to her both Rei and him were with his father having a "heart-to-heart"

And as the dance finishes and they walk to get some punch, both Kaji and Misato stop them at the dance floor and point up towards them. She turns up and smiles.

Mistletoe.

She really does love to dance.


	20. Session the 20th Mirrors & eyes

She hates looking at the mirror. But she can't help it: like a siren, that is the way mirrors call unto women.

She picks herself apart, staring at the flesh, the highlights. She knows her body is perfect, thin, and lithe. Full hips in correct harmony and proportions to her full breast (_and no excess fat hanging anywhere_).

But the mirror is a cruel foe: any imperfection real or imagined, slight or obvious is shown. On her stomach, two inches to the left of her belly button a crisscross web of scars and scratches are seen (_white, reptilian faces with cruel smiling lips_). On her right hand, a series of thin double scars run from the webbing of her fingers all the way to her elbow (_Pain, like a searing hot poker that has been thrust into her arm thru her palms_). A faint scar crosses her left eyebrow, ending on the corner of the same eye (_I'llkillyouI'llkillyouI'llkillyouI'llkillyou_).

Her nose and her lips are too small and her eyes feel too big.

She can posture, she can faint, but it all comes down to one simple thing: she needs someone who will accept her for who she is; Because to accept herself, she just gotta have a little faith.

And then, suddenly, she feels his hands snaking around her waist and she feels his lips against her neck.

"You look beautiful, _Schatz_."

She turns to Shinji and smiles, her fear put at ease.

----- -----

She loves his eyes.

They are like hers, only not. Hers are clear blue, like the seawater on a calm, warm sunny day.

His are dark and stormy, like the clouds brimming on a thunderstorm.

She is water, he is air.

So she stares into his closed eyes, waiting for him to wake up, wondering what is going on in that head of his (_is he dreaming of her? Is she clothed? Why does she care and hope it's not the latter?_) she can't help but feel the same way she felt back when she had just arrived back from home, completely lost, utterly disconnected.

She want to see his eyes again: to tell him to forgive her if she ever made those beautiful eyes cry, if she ever stole the words "I love you" from his lips.

And so she walks out, tired of waiting, mentally and spiritually spent. She passes Rei without either saying a word, and as Asuka rounds the corner; Rei goes inside Shinji's room.

And as she walks to the seat Asuka had just vacated, and sits, opening a book to spend time, Rei hears Shinji whisper breathlessly, uttering the words "_Asuka…_", making her frown, a look not of hurt feelings, but of philic concern on her face

Just as his eyes flutter open and turns to look at her.

----- -----

_Wow. This is a milestone (for me at least). 20 chapters is a huuge accomplishment for me._

_Thanks to all who have reviewed (regardless of shipping preference), and to all who have read, I hope I kept you entertained. I have tried to answer to each and every review, if I've left anyone (other than the anonymous) let me know.  
_

_Now, I have to ponder; should I keep it up? Of course I should; this is just a cheap knockout of Syra-X (now Marianne in chains) "The devil and the savior" Until it gets back on line._

_In the meantime, stay classy San Diego.  
_


	21. Session the 21st Letting go & A10

She hates letting go.

For her letting go means accepting defeat, rolling on your back and giving up without a fight.

She will never do that; she is prideful, and she is full of herself; she is brash and inconsiderate; she holds onto the things that she likes and never let's go because for her, letting go has never been an option.

Which doesn't mean to say she hasn't done it before; she has let go more than once.

"_No!!"_

Her mother; she will never forget how she felt her presence slipping away slowly, washing away, thinning away just with the passage of time, the same way paint slowly ships away to show the moldy, crusty underside, black and filthy and forgotten.

"_NO!! Get out of my head!!"_

Kaji; she thinks if it's possible to let go of something you never really had; Kaji was like a stray cat on all accounts; he chose her as much as she accepted him, but he was never hers, he was Misato's. Still, she held onto him for as long as she could, until he too slipped away.

"_DON'T RAPE MY MIND" "I DON'T WANT TO REMEMBER!!!!"_

So she fights today, she fights will all her passion and all her heart and as she sees the white light approaching, she has fear in her heart and does not want to let go because letting go means giving up and she does not want to give up.

_"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"_

Because the last piece of her personality present before it slowly slips away with the bright light from the angel is the hidden, whispering feelings she has for Shinji.

And the shame and the failure she faces whenever she wishes to make him understand.

"_DON'T MAKE ME REMEMBER!!!!"_

And that one hurts letting go of the most.

----- -----

She loves her Neural clips.

Before they became a symbol of who she was, they were a symbol of who she had been.

_"Let me give you something." She said, as she picked a box from her room, and took out a pair of red horn-like things and clipped them on her hair. _

Her mother had come with the device and the design, and she had been the first one to use those red A-10 Neural clips, she had worked countless hours over them; every painstakingly detail considered by her brilliant mind. She had been the first one to wear them to verify their functionality; their weight, how comfortable they were and it's maximum range. ("_All right Schatz, tell Mamma if you can hear her inside your head."_)

"_What's that Schatz? A picture of Mamma?" She said smiling, picking the crude drawing from the eager hand of the small redheaded imp with blue eyes. _

It was all she had left of her mother, and the first time she wore them she could still "hear" the residual echo of her mother's Last thoughts; it was like hearing some one speak thru a thick glass window, she could make the sounds, but not the words.

_"Is that mamma? She looks like a devil." She said smiling, as the small girl simply nodded, giggling at that._

Later, they became a part of her, almost like her very self; the defined her for who she was, not her actions, not her words; those small plastic berets were her real identity, her ideal self; they were what moved the Eva, what made her the pilot, what set her apart from the rest of the world. (_"Look Mama!! I've been chosen! I'm going to be an elite pilot!"_)

_She knew it was supposed to be her because of the bright red colored hair, and the deep red horns on top of her head. Smiling as she looked at her daughter's reflection on the mirror. _

And then, they also became the symbol of herself; during instrumentality an infinite number of worlds were created, all of them different, all unique. They all have one single unifying rule. She was always wearing them.

_"Do you like them?" she asked the child who simply nodded._

She also always ended up with him.

_"Go on and play with Kotomi, Mai." Asuka said as Misato's daughter came barging in, looking almost like a miniature version of her mom, down to the mauve hair._

And now, for her, she will gladly give a piece of herself to make her complete.

----- -----

_ AN: The love part was meant as a homage to Him0nky2012's "Neural Clips" (Beautiful story, really), with the hijacking of Mai Ikari and Kotomi Katsuragi (for those who have no clue, it's from the Happy end of Eva doujinshi by Pengel; the names from last chapter are Terri from Axel Terrizaki's "The child of Love" and Kami from Studio Kimigabuchi's "Re-Take After")  
_


	22. Session the 22nd Crying & his lips

She hates crying.

_"Fancy restaurant Third. You really outdid yourself."_

To her, it's a sign of weakness.

_"A-Asuka...I need to ask you someth-"_

It reminds her of a frail little girl who could only watch helplessly as the person most important to her slowly slipped away, each passing morning, each dark night all she could do was watch silently as she went farther and farther down the deep end.

_"What are you trying to say, Baka?"_

It reminds her of the bright searing pain of a ray of light inflicted; all those horrible memories she couldn't care for that were thrust back into her mind; Kaji and her younger self. The pain, the anguish, the hurt.

_"I swear to god Shinji, if you don't stop bumbling I'm gonna..."_

It reminds her of Shinji; those sleepless, restless nights she spent after the whole ordeal; what he saw during his instrumentality, she will never know, but what she saw was enough to make her feel like something was being lost, so she decided to stop something else, _someone else_, from slipping away.

_Suddenly he stands up and kneels in front of her._

It makes her really happy that he is back, because in reality she never wanted him gone; what's the point of all the fights, the stupid pride if she lost in one second what she had been looking for, waiting for, (_wanting to have_) for her whole life?

_And she knows, she just knows...and the tears start to come out._

But most of all, she hates crying for or because of him.

_"Asuka...will you marry me?" _

But sometimes, she can't help but cry.

----- -----

She loves his lips.

She's never consider herself an expert; in fact if one were to consider their first aborted attempt as kissing, they would think it was mainly done for comedic relief . Why did she ever thought that pinching his nose was a good idea? never mind the fact the his breath was tickling her lips, and her lips were, and still are really sensitive.

She can't help but lick her own lips as she sees him sitting across from her, eating away, picking at the vegetables of his stir fry while he skims thru the books strewn around him. He looks so focused, and his hair is messed up just _so_, and she can't help but stare at his lips as they continue to slowly, torture the poor piece of vegetable in between them and

SHE.

JUST.

CAN'T.

TAKE IT.

ANY.

MORE.

Without more warning than a low guttural growl, she pounces at him, catching him of guard landing on his chest, his back pressed against the chair on the floor, her knees on either side of his body, effectively straddling him, her hands cupping his face and pulling it up a little as she finally, _finally_ kisses him as if her life depended on this kiss (_and she knows she should come up for air any time soon, unless she wants a reprise of the kiss fiasco again_)

She really loves his lips.

They are soft and gentle and she just loves how they taste. she let's go of his mouth like a kid who is giving the las lick to the lollipop she likes the most, pouting and fretting, wishing she were able to have more.

Shinji grabs her by her arms and kisses her back, and she forgets everything else, only able to remember the essentials:

She needs to breath.

She loves his lips.

But she loves to kiss them the most.


	23. Session the 23th Flowers & mobile phones

She hates flowers.

For her they are the ultimate sin a man can do: offering flowers, doused in smelly, cheap cologne, chocolates in a box and going for a moonlight stroll by the beach.

She has turned down more idiots than she cares to count for breaking that rule; she has told them time and time again, that she does not care for mutilated pieces of organic material which may or may not be a subconscious euphemism for her genitalia (_Although in a more aggressive way using smaller words_); she is not a trophy, for God's sake (_Although she IS pretty enough to be one_) and she is definitely not the girl you would want to take home to meet your mom.

She is not the shy, quiet, demure type, always willing and obedient! (_You want some one who will be waiting for you at home in a dress and apron? Call The First; she's that type of girl_) She is fiery, has attitude to spare, and is never shy about voicing her opinion. She is not afraid to vocalize her feelings _("You're an idiot!" "This sucks!" "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_)

She's also honest, and even if she pushes you around, she tries to push you forward, she is possessive, because she doesn't like anybody touching her stuff.

In short, she hates flowers because they are too girlish.

But she loves them when Shinji gives them to her.

----- -----

She loves her mobile phone.

It's a pretty, little thing; small and thin and sleek.

It also a vibrant red (_When you are the great Asuka Langley Sohryu, you have to accessorize_) that is always coordinated with herself.

It plays music, which is a great plus for her; those endless hours at school have been a blast ever since she has been able to sneak her phone and listen to her music drowning out the dull voice of that old geezer. It makes the time she spends on the train when she goes downtown a breeze, no more feeling like Rei, looking out the window, sighing petulantly as she tries and wills time to speed by at par with the scenery.

But perhaps the best feature is the camera it has.

She loves taking pictures of herself (_She DOES make a killing wallpaper_) and she loves taking pictures of those around her; they all reflect their personality on those quick snapshots of life:

Shinji, looking at her while he gets a soda from the cafeteria a clear look of…something…on his face (One of the few Hikari took for her) Herself at one f the outings with the girls; Laughing an honest-to-god laugh, not laughing thru her teeth. Rei, looking up humorlessly from her book, while Mayumi stares at the camera in surprise.

_Kaji, getting a soda from the lounge, his head turned to the other side as he catches Misato Walking by. Misato, drinking and laughing; a rich loud, colorful sound coming from her throat and chest. Ritsuko, looking humorlessly from her clipboard while Maya stares straight at the camera, surprise etched on her face. _

The two stooges, bearing their teeth in a smile at her, while Hikari groans, covering her face with her hand, a groan visible even on the picture

_Shigeru and Makoto, smiling their trademark 'dork' smile at her, while Maya frowns in the back, arms crossed tightly at her breast. _

And as she sees the pictures again, she can't help but smile wistfully, noticing the similarities.

Misato, leaning her head over at Kaji, a smile of happiness on both their faces so perfectly etched, nothing in the wall could come between them, while Rritsuko smiles faintly in the back at them, a look of approval on her face. 

_The only picture she has of the three pilots, taken by Maya; Shinji and herself with Rei, smiling faintly._

Misato, kissing Kaji by surprise, a look of disbelief on his face, taken by surprise by her forceful push; the angle of them falling on their backs, Misato with her eyes closed and all the muscles on her face delivering the message she will never, ever let go.

_Shinji and Herself, on the exact same spot, doing the exact same thing, with the exact same expression on their faces._

She looks at Shinji's sleeping form on his bed, her bed, _THEIR_ bed and she smiles.

This one is going into print.


	24. Session the 24th Fast food & blinsides

She hates fast food.

Do you know how many calories are in a Big Mac? (_540_) The amount of sodium in it's french fries? (_190 mg per 100g_) Are the Mc Nuggets really made of chicken? (_She prefers to keep her opinion to herself_) and what kind of milk they use in their shakes? (_She hopes skim or non-fat_)

As she continues sprouting the latest piece of trivial information she found in the latest issue of her girly magazines, Asuka can't help but frown at Shinji, as he looks at her with a look that clearly says "And I should care because?" his mouth is still munching on the food.

She will then begin her tirade of why not switch to a more nutritious lunch, and that he will start at any time ballooning up (_She knows he won't, stupid Baka has a wonderful metabolism; she does too, but she is not willing to risk it_) and he will tell her that she is crazy, she is perfect just the way she is, and doesn't need to worry about her weight.

She will then tell him that it is a big deal (_you try parading yourself around in a skintight clothing that delivers a great wedgie up your ass, and shows everyone when you are cold, or excited, in unequivocal ways_) And will tell him that its all is the fault of stupid perverts (_And she IS being general here; Kaji is included as well_) who are lusting after young girls in lithe and thin bodies.

He will then tell her there are some who prefer the full bodied rather than the skinny, and she will slam her hands on the table and get so close to his face and yell at him to _START DATING THE FAT TART OF 3-D THEN!!!_

And just before the argument can escalate into an all-blown war, he will lean over and kiss her on the lips, effectively silencing her. He will then proceed to place a French fry inside her mouth and close it delicately with his hand, smiling at her.

Sometimes its hard to hate fast food.

----- -----

She loves blindsiding him.

It funny to pounce on him when he least expects it.

He will be calmly humming to himself making today's breakfast (_or lunch, or supper, it's really funny any way_) and she will barge in, smacking him in the back of his head.

Or he will be walking around the house, aimlessly and without purpose other than trying to make the stupid bird do some much needed exercise (_Amazing how a staple diet of fish and beer can make a you grow large_) And she will, knowingly (_although he can't prove it_) come out of the rest room clad in nothing but a towel (_or her room wearing only a tank top and panties_) only to yell and call him a perverted peeping tom.

But she likes it more when she surprises him in less violent ways. How cute he looks when he wakes up to see her on top of him, smiling and looking like a kitten on top of his owner.

Or the way he blushes when she gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, before parting ways and going to classes, already counting down the minutes before lunch break.

Like the smile he has that lights up his face whenever she smiles at him, or winks, or tells him thanks in that pouty, breathy voice she knows he loves so (_and judging by the way the blood rushes to his…face…boy DOES he loves it so_)

She loves to tackle him to the ground, drinking in his surprise, enjoying the seconds this look of surprise is on his face before she lowers her head and he responds in nature, smiling.

And when he strikes back, grabbing her from behind by her waist, lifting her and twirling in the living room, her own squeals of laughter mixing with his own, she really has to accept it.

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.


	25. Session the 25th Cliches & Sundresses

She hates clichés.

No, wait…she hates it when the stooges are right.

Granted, most of the times they know their place, specially Shinji, as he tends to identifies her look as the unspoken order of _Shut the hell up you idiot, you're gonna give us away_ which comes especially handy whenever those other two stooges he so fondly calls "friends" are within the vicinity and start to sprout their "Newlyweds" nonsense.

But it just has turned so clichéd (_There's that word again_); They are quick to point out their cultural differences, their sleeping arrangements; the fact that thru out the steady years they have lived together (_at first due out of necessity, then out of laziness, now…she needs to find a new excuse_) and that he has grown a little like her, and she has _toned_ down (_In plain speak, she isn't as honest and loud as usual_)

So she is the crazy, loudmouthed attention-seeking whore who is the dumb genius! (B_ecause, hello! Graduated with a University degree with a name too far complex for these simpleton by age 14, but still has difficulty with Kanji_) She is the extremely wealthy and spoiled brat (_Explained by_ _the fact that_ _Western Europeans in Japan are stereotyped to be billionaires and extremely snobby, coupled with that hot red sport roadster she bought with the inheritance money Mama left her_)

She is the princess in love with the loser. (_Who also happens to be her best friend, at least according to Hikari_)

And as it turns out, she is all that and more...

But as she walks back home next to Shinji and he smiles at her after Toji walks off mouthing about the newlyweds again while Hikari twists his ear one more time, she can't help but smile back at him.

Some times being the right cliché is bearable.

----- -----

_"Are you ready?" _

She loves her yellow sundress.

It's a perfectly nice sundress, evoking younger, happy days. A long voyage by sea with the first person she truly felt comfortable with (_First crush-turned older brother type_) that made a lasting impression on all the people that met her that particular day. Because, if you are a typical hot blooded teenager who just happens to catch a flash of panty from a cute foreigner, that image will be forever etched in your mind (_Damn Baka Hentai_).

It's a perfectly nice dress; Her first, official adult dress that was not really purchased, but something she found stored away in Mama's room, coupled with a picture of her younger self when she was attending TUB and it was like looking into a picture of herself in a couple of years; the same blue eyes, only this ones looked a dull blue because of the years and the acids corroding the picture; the same red hair, only hers was cut shorter, like a pageboy cut reaching just below her neck, and more of a dark red than her coppery hair.

She was accompanied by a woman of roughly her same age, only she had longer hair the color of chestnut, a gentle smile on her feminine face and with eyes so blue they seemed dark, almost black, in her slightly slanted but big, soulful eyes. (_She always wondered who she was: an old friend of mama? Someone she could have called aunt in some other time?_)

_"__Yeah, let me just tie it down right.__"_

And mama was wearing that same dress in that picture, smiling at the camera with that dazzling bright smile of hers.

_"__I-I really like that dress, Asuka.__"_

The same smile she used to have before life took it all away.

_She smiles softly. __"__Yeah.__"__ she whispers. __"__So do I__."_

It's a beautiful dress: the same dress she wore when he asked her on their first "official" date, the same dress she wore on various other anniversaries, just like today.

_"This better be a nice restaurant, Third." She says with a smile, taking the bite out of the comment._

_He fingers the small velvet box nervously chuckling. __"__I really hope you like it.__"_

And, unbeknownst to her, it's the dress she will wear when he pops the big question to her.

----- -----

_AN: ties in to the "Hate" part of Session the 22nd._


	26. Session the 26th Drama & smiles

She hates Drama

She knows she might as well be saying she hates herself, but the truth is, for all her posturing and rhetoric, for all the name calling and teasing, for all weak, hollow threats, she hates drama. (_But doesn't hate being a drama queen_)

She hates it when people want to see too deep into situations; picking out at every single detail, trying to understand that which by it's very nature defies understanding.

She knows if it was meant to be understood, it would be easy to explain.

So why is it so hard to understand the rationale behind cold, hard logic? Why do emotions only muck it up?

As she sees him walking towards _her_, and sees him hugging _her_ (_those should be her hugs!_) kissing _her_ (_that should be her kiss!_) and generally doing to _her_ what she wished he would to her instead (_It sounds jumbled and confused, but DAMMIT SHE CAN'T REALLY THINK RIGHT NOW!_) she can't help but feel the bile rising up, the heat coursing thru her, the emotions pooling at the pit of her stomach.

And she knows she's about to do something she hates.

So as she runs to the rest room and feels the tears running down her face, she can't help but remind herself again.

Generally speaking, life _is_ drama.

"_Shinji...I need to talk to you..._"

So she really hates drama.

----- -----

She loves it when he smiles.

"_What are you talking about?_"

_"I saw you both." She says as calmly as possible, even as she feels the knife being turned and plunged deeper and deeper into her heart. "You have my blessings."_

She loves the way the corners of his lips will turn slightly up, and not quite smile, but show the beginning of it.

_"Uh…thanks…I guess, but still…what are you talking about?" _

_"I won't get in the way of you and Rei."_

She loves it so much, it's perhaps the only way she feels she can go thru with this; because if he were to give her that heart melting smile, she would then feel her eyes tear up and this will end up messy.

_"I know you love her."_

_"Well..yeah…" _

and now, she can't help it; it's that stupid smile of his, and she can see her vision getting blurry, and her breath start to choke and it's getting harder to control the tone of her voice, it would be easier to let it rise, and to let it crack and to just let everything go.

_"So? Go and be with her…" This isn't going well, she is beginning to raise her voice and get mad. "Be happy and-" _

_"Asuka, Rei is my sister." _

Now she feels dumb, and can't help but smile back at him, first a small smile, unsure of itself, before she understands what it is he is saying, what it is he is hinting, what it is he feels.

_"Oh." She can't help but feel extremely dumb. _

_"And I love you."_

And so, as her small smile grows and turns, and transforms into a full blown honest to God smile, the kind that you feel in your face, coloring your cheeks, making the whole world like a warm pink and fluffy towel to warm you from the cold rain outside, she knows she feels dumb, and still she can't help but smile

And now she can't help but feel happy AND dumb.

----- -----

_AN: Now, before reading this, bear in mind this is not a bitch, nor a moan, nor a ploy to get attention; feedback or not, reviews or not, I have come to a decision._

_I'm not backing down from the project, but I seriously need to concentrate on stuff at hand. _

_If you can't tell, I love writing, in fact, if I were to paraphrase my good friend Fresh C, I think I do a damn good job at it; I might not be a drama driven author, but I believe all the people who come here look for two things: good stories, and updated stories; what good is it when you write a wonderful masterpiece if you leave it at the middle of the road? And what good is if you update a lot if the only thing you put is inane conversation splashed by a general amount of OOCness? _

_However, I'm at a conundrum. I will continue to update, but not twice a day (for one, it thins down the impact of a story. For two, I fear originality might erode and I end up taking themes used before, rewording them and posting them again.) So this is the last twice-a-day update; in fact it's the last one of the week._

_Those cheers you are hearing are the people who will finally get a breather here. Those who have been from the start will attest, it's not because I'm hitting a dry patch, but some times, updating one stories after another can be a bit taxing; I need a breather. Those who just barely got here...hmmm, sorry I guess._

_When I started this project, it was more of a pet, like picking up a stray; I felt constricted (some would say constipated) with ideas popping left and right and not putting them in writing made me crazy because it affected my other stories. So I began to write these short one shots; reception was great, I loved feeling the writing muscles flex again, helped some writers along the way and found out not all Rei shippers are rabid fanboys (Shout out to Hamstadini) waiting to sic themselves on Asuka shippers (who can be just as vicious as them) It has been a good long run, and I hope I can continue come next week, but for now, that's it for me. _

_I need a break, what I do in the mean time is neither here, nor there; the important thing is updates will cease, they may be (key word is may) once a day._

_Having said all that; I really hope you enjoyed the last one, for now._

_In the mean time_ _Vamos a tequila señorita bonita I really needed it now, Ay yo no tengo dinero, caballlero say, can we work this out?_

_Peace out. _


	27. Session the 27th His help & Tanabata

"_H-hey…Shinji…" she stammers, her face matching her hair._

She hates his help.

"_S-sure, I'll do it." He stammers, his eyes firmly planted on his feet._

Actually, she hates asking for his help.

"_Uh. Thanks." She says, an awkward silence in front of them, finally, the ringing of the bell tells them lunch is over._

_Saved by the bell._

She is the great Asuka Langley Sohryu, child prodigy, Elite pilot (_at least in the arcades_), Savior of mankind (_And in the world of online MORPGs The Red Knight of the Holy Flame, Defender of the Realm, Duchess of the Border Marches, and crown princess of Germania_) She was supposed to be above this, how could she have stooped so low?

Oh! How the high have fallen.

As she looks at the full body mirror hanging from her room, she can't help but feel a touch of dread navigating thru her back. She'd take any of the angels (_Maybe all of them at once_) over this any time; this was a conspiracy, it had to be, a sick game conjured by her detractors to make her see-

"_Asuka! Shinji is here!" she hears her mother chuckle softly thru the thin rice paper door._

And as she sighs and walks out of her room, she can't help but blush at the look he gives her; the look she had wanted to receive from him all his life.

"_Y-you look beautiful." He stammers, putting the dead flowers in her wrist._

She was unsure of it all.

"_Th-thank you." She smiles as she sees them._

But now she knows.

"_Have fun at the prom!" Her mother shouts and she smiles. And as the door closes, she quickly pecks him on the lips._

She can always ask for his help.

----- -----

She loves _Tanabata_.

Ever since she was a little girl, she would look out her window into the starry sky, and simply…stare. _Tanabata_ became synonymous with summer for her.

As she grew up, she got other words associated with summer: Vacations and sleepovers, lazy afternoons and trips to the beach. But in the back of her mind, she would always remember her Mama and her Papa, all of them dressed in silky kimonos, strolling down the streets, and Papa would be carrying her on his shoulders while she ate and laughed and had fun and Mama will always buy her a goldfish in a bag (_Which would mysteriously disappear a month after_)

She smiles brightly as she walks back home with him in tow, stopping at the shopping district to see the bathing suit (_And she just happens to know which one to model to him to ensure a nosebleed from him_)

And then she'll go with him to see the kimonos for _Tanabata_, making him sit as she tries one after another (_Mainly for teasing since she has already picked the one she will wear_) she enjoys the way his eyes glaze over as she walks out of the dressing room, how he simply nods and says yes without even hearing her question (_"Shinji, would you like it if you had to wash the groin cups of the whole schools boys softball team?" "Yes."_)

And now as they walk hand in hand by the lights of the paper lamps, she gazes into the night sky, looking at the stars. He tries so hard to not look at her legs (_She enjoys the soft lapels of the Yukata, almost like a mini skirt, and her deep red Tabi socks, matching the silk of her robe_)

They stop by one of the tall oaks that houses a thousand paper lanterns, and she grabs a strip of colored paper, narrow and thin. She dips the brush next to her in the black ink and writes her wish, her aspiration, to hang it from the nearby bamboos, along the chimes and lanterns and assorted ornaments on it.

"_What did you write Asuka?"_

"_What are you, stupid? If I tell you it won't come true!"_

And their smiles and laughter mingles with the others, she turns to the stars and smiles at them.

_I wish to be forever with him._

She knows it'll always come true.

----- -----

_Ahh...the wonders of rest and relaxation. After a weekend off, I felt the need to...scratch and itch. Hence chapter 27. those who know, will understand the hate part (Shout out to Rakna. I need my chosen fix, pleeease!!) It's good to be beack, guess i just needed to clear my head. as a souvenir I bring you...another fic._

_Heh._


	28. Session the 28th Self hate & quirks

She hates this self-hate. 

Why is it that now a days, the only thing she can see whenever she looks at herself in a mirror is that self-hate? that tire expression in her eyes; that dullness in her soul that emerges thru them, that take the gleam and that makes everything feel as it were trapped in sap, moving slowly, only to slowly die?

A warm, orange glow is making it all go away, and she can feel everyone and no one at the same time; almost as if she were in one of those train cars filled to the rim with people, she can feel them all; people she knew, people she cared for, people she hated (_A vast majority this class_) and the people she loved (_And a particular name comes to mind, all stubbled chin and pony tail and-_)

She knows she is dreaming, apparently that is the only thing she can do right now, for some reason her body is not hers, won't answer to her commands (l_ike that doll that used to be her beloved unit 02_) She has the same dream, she feels like she is falling, but it's all pitch dark, so for all she knows she could be flying (_But she knows, SHE KNOWS, she is falling_) and there is nothing she can do (_And Kaji suddenly begins to grow smaller, thinner,his stubble disappearing, receding into clean fresh cheeks, his hair becoming smaller, thiner, silkier and-_)

Wait a minute, **WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE**?

And as if he could read her mind he reaches her, and now she knows, **SHE KNOWS**, she is falling because she is traveling head first and the surroundings are not pitch black but vibrant crimson, a blinding red.

"Hi there." He says and he smiles. "Long time no see." (_And she feels-_)

"IDIOT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" She screams (_or did she imagined she screamed at him?_) and for the life left in her she can't seems to bother as to why he is close (_very close_) and his arms are around her waist (_they feel so snug_) and they feel warm (_very warm_) and his smile is just so-

"I-I'm sorry." He says, and smiles and in that moment, she knows there is no more hatred, no more wallowing in the endless pit of self pity that is her mind.

She is free.  
----- -----

"I-I'm sorry." He says, and she can't help but smile as it hits her.

She loves those little quirks about him.

"It's all right, I'll make an exception and forgive you this time, but don't let it happen again."

Why was it that she used to hate him so much? did she felt threatened by him? or was it simply the natural horror and distaste one has to a grotesque reflection of your own self, past the make up and the flawless skin, deep into the bones and sinew, noticing how truly corrupted and rotten your insides really are.

So she feels happy he is here with her, she feels the presence of others as well, a warm, loving presence, the same she felt minutes (_or hours, or days or years_) inside unit 02; and a presence detached, aloof, yet somehow connected, playful and chipper (_and she wonders why does it feel like wondergirl on a sugar rush?_) and she feels them all; Maya and Hyugga and Shigeru and the Sub Commander and-

She smiles, noticing how all the couples are naturally drawn to one another.

"This is the crux of all possibilities." Shinji says softly, still embracing her. "We are at the nexus of all the possible worlds that Instrumentality can create."

"What does it mean?" She asks, and a second before Shinji can answer, she already knows the truth; even now she feels all her hatred, all her doubts, all her inner demons and fear just flow away into the orange wave that is enveloping her. She can't really say she cares about it; she hopes they don't come ever again, but somehow feels like that was the sum of the arts that made her too, and they feel as if the were becoming more solid, more defined, and then suddenly they are gone, and she hopes they find peace (_or at least the surface with him next to her_)

"We can go wherever we want to go, we can be whoever we want to be."

"The choice is ours."

"As long as you have the will to live, and chose to return, you will go back to wherever you chose; there are multiple places you can go back; you can wake up next to me in a beach being a washed by a sea of red; or you can be my oldest childhood friend, still a teenager in Tokyo-3."

"Or I can go back to the Over the Rainbow and actually be nice to you." She smiles. "The choices are infinite." And she catches him blushing. "What?"

"I've never seen you smile like that, it's bea-" He catches himself, stammering and blushing. "I like it." And then he whispers but she is still able to make it out. even with all the thoughts and feelings rushing in them, thru them, with them.

_I love it very much._

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" She screams at him, smiling. (_and she is lying because she can hear him just fine_)

"I'M TELLING YOU THAT I LOVE YOU." He says blushing, looking down and she cups his chin and lifts his head and kisses him quickly.

A soft chaste peck on the lips.

"I know."

She really loves those quirks about him. Imagined or otherwise.

----- -----

_Well, there I was, having a great time, when one of my friends (who, for the duration of this AN shall have no name) PMed me to chat; and he told me there was this cool anime called Eureka Seven made by bones (and I love bones...Studio Bones, that is...SHUT UP PERVS!)and I began to YT'em._

_I never realized how based on NGE it was, the only difference is that R/Sers and A/Sers might be happy here; EuREIka gets Renton (whiny, crybaby Renton, or Anime Shinji) while Asuk-Sorry, Anemone (complete with near death experience wailing "I want to live") Gets Dominic (Angsty, dorky Dominic, or Manga Shinji)_

_This is relevant because the Love part is based LOOSELY on the climax of Ep. 48 Ballet Mechanique._

_Well, that's all I have to say, I guess._

_Peace out._


	29. Session the 29th Subtelty & the pier

She hates it when he's being subtle.

_"You're such a pain sometimes…"_

_"WHAAT!" _

Like how hard he tries to let her be the first one to enter the classroom at morning, letting go of her hand seconds before they turn around the park.

_"You're always late." _

Or how the acted wrinkle of annoyance that forever mars his brow whenever she comes to wake him up, or get together on a school project acts as a buffer to the smile brimming in his eyes; how he pretends to be bored and annoyed by her, but how subtly he studies her face and her eyes, hanging on to her very presence like a drowning man to a lifeline.

_"Just a little flash." _

Their hands will brush against one another and to the everyone in the classroom it will looks like an accident, nothing more than two students handing their respective exercise books so they could be reviewed, but she knows better.

It's all planned, from her fingers gently, slipping against the knuckles on his hand, growing into him like ivy grows into a tree's bark, molding to his turns, to his hand's ways, almost like a silk sheet enveloping him, to him urgently pulling against her smaller, softer fingers, a brief ghost of a smile appearing briefly in his lips, before suddenly retreating into his face, his hand drawn back, the papers strewn around them.

_"Look at what you did, Idiot!" _

And he will take advantage of them both kneeling together to let his knees touch her knees, and his hands roam against her own hand, touching slightly fingers, his tips pressing against hers, as they pick the papers up.

_"Look at the newlyweds going at it again!"_

When they ask about the two of them, they both subtly make eye contact, the corner of their lips slowly, almost imperceptibly turning upwards.

And then both shake their heads.

_"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!!" _

----- -----

She loves the pier by the lake.

She knows it sounds stupid, and if anybody asked, she will immediately deny it, but it's true.

She come here every summer, and ever since she's been 13, this has been her own private ritual of 2 weeks; she will pack a sundress (_or 4 or 5, all assorted, all different with matching sandals and sun hats__, and papa will grumble good-naturedly about how heavy her bag is when packing it in the car_)

She will then as soon as they arrive unpack in a flurry, and head out in a hurry, running towards the pier by the bay.

_"Asuka come back by dinner time!"_

_"Yes mama!" _

And she will sit in the pier; reflecting on the dark blue water and it's secrets, letting the minutes and hours slowly pass her by, like the clouds up in the sky.

She feels the shadow passing over her face even with closed eyes, and she can't help but smile that dazzling smile of hers.

_"Took you long enough idiot!" She will smile at him. _

_"Sorry, I came as soon as I finished unpacking.__"_

Every summer it will be the same; her family will journey down to the lake and stay for a couple of weeks, and she will spend most of the daylight hours (_and some of the starry nights_) with him, talking or not, laughing or not, sometimes simply staring up the sky, sprawled on the pier facing opposite directions, but their faces next to one another.

Just smiling and being kids.

_"Hey Shiji…you wanna kiss?"_

and every time she comes back, she remembers her first, magical kiss by the shore of the lake, the fireworks illumination their inching faces, and the shallow breaths afterwards.

And she feels his shadow fall on her front.

"Hey idiot. Took you long enough."

And as she gets up and greets him with a kiss, she really has to admit it.

She loves the pier by the lake.

----- -----

_AN: I remember when I had first began with this fic,and the unlikeliest of all persons became my first reviewer, I will be the first to admit that he has huge amounts of talent, and I could never, ever compare myself to him, or others as well._

_However, one of my favorite hobbies, besides studying dead languages and collecting figurines, slowly feeling as every shred of humanity erodes to transform myself into an Otaku (only 200 lbs separate me from becoming the stereotypical one, y'know, like comicbook guy or the one from Paranoia Agent) is reading thru other authors fics; sometimes inspiration strikes from unlikely sources._

_the hate part was brought forth by YamiPaladinofChaos's__ beautiful story "subtle" (Have you seen how eerily similar are Shinji and Naota? on the same note, Ninamori and Asuka have the same feeling of being stern, and secretly harboring a crush), while the love part came after seeing one of Sadamoto's illustration of Shinji and Asuka in summer clothing._

_Hoped you liked.  
_


	30. Session the 30th Fool & gravity

She hates being played for a fool.

_"A week ago!" Turn around, shocked expression, replace with a scowl upon heraing the Third's pathetic attempt at making up an excuse: "I- You…it's not what it looks like, Asuka!"_

_"That's it!"_

She hates it even more when it's apparent she fell for it, taking it in; hook, line, sinker and all.

_"You will have to excuse us for a moment." False smile, while grabbing his arm and twisting it back, wrenching it up to imobilize him. "Asuka, cut it out! That hurts!" Push and shove still smiling, ignoring the shocked expressions of the others. _

_"We need a moment or two alone."_

She ignores his strangled cries, pushing him forcefully onto the bed, and not giving him a second to ask, to wonder, or to plead, she grabs his wrists with her hands, forcefully pushing him down on the mattress, her strong legs circling around his midsection effectively pinning him down.

He's at her mercy, and she will not forgive, nor forget.

Minutes later, in a remote corner of her mind she subconsciously hears the sound of a door opening, followed by the strangled gasps of surprise.

She doesn't care.

_They _don't care, and it shows.

And as the door is closed softly again, as if trying to not interrupt (_Even though not even an angel from heaven above would be able to do so_) they continue falling onto each other for support, comfort, and love.

And as she stands on top of him, her hands still placed along his thin, fragile wrists, holding his arms up above his head, showing no signs of letting go anytime soon (_And he's showing no signs of resisting too_) they continue to be immersed in each other, forgetting themselves in their own lips; a kiss so soft, yet so pressing; so desperate yet so aloof, only one thing comes to her mind besides the continuous words of _OHMYGODI'MKISSINGSHINJI_ playing over and over in her mind:

Asuka Langley Sohryu hates being played for a fool, and when she captures and extracts her revenge, she takes her sweet time.

And Shinji is glad that, for once, she shows no signs of finishing any time soon.

----- -----

She loves gravity.

Not the kind that keeps the planets on their orbits and make the comets fly by.

She loves the pull of things, how everything becomes imminent, how there's now other way, no other possibility for it to turn out. And she can't help but wonder as she is falling down, the gravity of it all pulling her towards, are the memories she holds still true? Did they really happen? Or have the tears deluded them like water does to everything, washing the emotions behind the memories away?

_"Asuka!!"_

She shudders as she feels the fear passing thru her spine; and suddenly it becomes a possibility that maybe, just maybe, this time, tomorrow, everything will change: the rain currently falling against the boat will cease to follow, instead becoming a mist that like that same memory will fade into one more day, the first of many away from-

_"ASUKA!!"_

SHe stops mid thought, unsure if she heard or if she wanted to hear that voice crying that name.

_"ASUKA!!!"_

There it is again, and this time she knows that something, somewhere out there keeps calling her name. Did she imagine it?

And try as she might to fight it, she feels it in her bones, she feels it in her soul; Something is pulling her, and she can't help but smile as she feels the gravity of it all.

_She climbs the rail and let's herself go, falling towards the big blue; hands spread out, and anguish in her face._

_And he catches her, holding onto her for dear life._

_"I love you..." He repeats at her, over and over. "I should have told you I'm crazy about you."_

And she really loves the gravity of it all.

----- -----

_AN: there are few authors who are regarded as the classical one; and there are few fics that even after a year or two are still as enjoyable as when you first read them. The hate part is a shout out to Ryoma's excellent fic "The Best Laid Plans"; here's hoping someday we get the much anticipated update for TBLP2._


	31. Session the 31st December & skating

She hates the month of December.

_December 4th._

But she hates her birthday more.

She remembers little of the ones she spent with mama; all graceful smiles coming from guest to guest; here and there. The smell of freshly baked goodies; the deep rumbling laughter of papa.

_"__Asuka…are you still asleep?"_

The soft feeling of mama's cheek, as she nuzzled her to sleep, quieting down her tears after all the commotion.

The calm tranquility she felt when mama would tuck her in, the wonderful feeling of warmth encasing her whole.

_"__I don't wanna wake up."_

The ones after are not even worth mentioning. The careless congratulations of papa and _her_; the way the _Kommandant_ would congratulate her by reviewing last years proficient report and comparing it against the current.

The only time she would smile was when Kaji would smuggle chocolates and toys fro her, and When Misato would surprise her with a small candle on a cupcake.

_"__This better be good, Baka!"_

So of course he would go to great lengths. In front of her is a typical German breakfast, spread all thru the table. Breakfast in Germany is a major event, the morning meals here are just too good to miss. In front of here is a full array of bacon, sausage and eggs; cereals, cheeses, and fruits, with German seeded rolls and paper-thin slices of smoked salmon.

And in front of it, a simple chocolate cupcake, with a red candle on top.

_"__Das Essen war sehr gut…" she smiles as she plants a kiss in his forehead, enjoying his blushing face. "Danke."_

But maybe this year it will be different now.

----- -----

She loves skating.

_"__Cmon Shinji, you can do it; keep it up."_

She loves the way it feels, like she's running and flying at the same time.

She loves how she can be zipping past him three times in a row, making him run faster, trying to keep up.

_"__C'mon slowpoke, you won't be able to make the team if you keep slacking off!"_

He will try to catch up with her, and she will stick her tongue at him, skating further down the road, telling him to keep running. she will then dart again around him, making him laugh thru the pain of the excercise, drinking in the look of determination in his face.

_"__Shinji, you're almost catching up on me...I gotta skate faster."_

She will then stop once she sees he has reached his peak (_Really, the Baka will one day over exert himself. what would he do without her?_) and she will walk next to him, complaining that she is too tired to make it to the bench. He will grumble but smile, and grab her by the hand, pulling her behind him to seat, a bottle of water ready and at hand to give it to her.

_"__Shinji, I'm tired..."_

_"__You really shouldn't over excercise Asuka."_

_"__Carry me?"_

She loves skating because, at the end of the day, when she is tired and can't go on, he will carry her without complain.


	32. Session the 32nd Drunkness & sickness

She hates walking back drunk.

She's an adult, godammit! She should be allowed to continue getting drunk.

Instead Hikari frowns and tells her _she's_ had enough (_And she drunkenly replies that there is not enough alcohol in the world to make it enough_) and then Rei tells the bartender to cut her off, so she begins to drunkenly flirt with whatever available guy is around to buy her a drink; _ONE LOUSY DRINK!_ (_Until those stupid, good for nothing stooges show up and tell that nice guy who was gong to buy her one to take a hike_)

And then suddenly Hikari is by her side, and somehow she's on the restroom kneeling in the ground and she feels so bad; her head hurts, her stomach hurts...

But it's her chest; Her chest is the one that hurts the worst.

And now, Hikari and Rei are pulling her thru the deserted streets of Tokyo-3 and she begins to spill her secrets and guts in a slurred speech, trying to tell her best friend and her coworker why she would go to such great lengths in getting drunk every day, every night, since-

And now she is crying and sobbing and shaking and holding on to dear life to both of the girls while she slowly and softly, almost in a shallow, desperate whisper keeps repeating out loud and in her head over and over and over _OHMYGODWHYDIDHELEAVEMEWHYDIDHELEAVEMEWHYDIDHELEAVE-?_

And as she slowly cries herself to sleep, sobbing and holding herself, she knows tomorrow she will put on a brave face, and a snotty attitude and an arrogant exterior as a front for the whole world to see.

But when the time to leave comes, she will again go straight home, to get herself drunk, and then show to the bars, trying to use all the alcohol in the world to fill in the gaping hole in her chest and her soul.

She can't help but think about the severe repercussions tomorrow she will face.

Worst yet, she can't help but feel this has all been for naught.

And as the tears slowly recede and she starts to fall into the warm embrace of unconsciousness, she knows...

She really hates walking back drunk.

----- -----

It's not like she actually _likes_ being sick, but sometimes you just can't help it.

She will get up and feel a little faint. Think nothing about and go on her usual activities for the day (_"Hello Mr. And Mrs. Ikari I'm here to get Shinji" "SHINJI! GET UP! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!" "Good-bye Mr. and Mrs. Ikari"_)

As the day progresses she will start to feel weaker, but she will then remember she hasn't had nothing to eat, so she will blame it on hunger, the lack of nutrients for her growing body, and when lunch hour comes by, and she is sitting with Shinji enjoying lunch, she will gladly accept his lunch as well (_"B-but Asuka! I haven't finished eating ye-__"__ "Shut up Shinji! It's your fault I wasn't able to eat breakfast, again!"_)

And when gym class comes by, before she can finish the second lap, she will see everything hazy and blurry, and then somehow she will see the sky, even when she doesn't remember turning her head up and suddenly she feels something hitting her back, and the frightened voices of Shinji and Hikari closer by.

When she comes to, she sees she's at the nurses office, and Akagi-Sempai tells her that she is sick with the flu and going home, and Shinji will volunteer to take her back, and he will then stay with her for the rest of the afternoon (_"I told you I'm fine..." "And I told you I'm not leaving 'till your mom get's home." "...Thanks, Shinji..."_)

And when the next day comes, and she feels her whole body going cold and hot, a shiver going down her spine, and her head throbbing, Shinji will skip school and stay with her all day, taking care of her and checking her forehead to see how she's doing.

And as she covers the lower half of her face to obstruct Shinji's view of her smiling face, she will blame the flush and the heat on the flu.

But she actually _doesn't hate_ being sick (_Especially if he's going to be taking care of her_)


	33. Session the 33rd Talking & Onsen

She hates talking.

In case someone had been in a coma, or hasn't been paying attention, she is more prone to activity.

She needs to be in constant movement; she needs to feel her time is wisely spent and used. Not doing anything is the same for her as sitting in abed, or lying in a half filled tub, she dislikes the feeling of inactivity, can't stand to be in her bed for long; and even when she sleeps, she is an active sleeper (_She'll sleepwalk and wake up moments, or minutes, or hours later in a different room, more often than not his_) she kicks and turns all night.

A loud _BAM!_ Can be heard, and suddenly the whole apartment is plunged into darkness. _Great._ She thinks. No Tv, no music, not even the A/C; so when the room begins to get stuffier, she opens the window and walks out.

Minutes later Shinji comes too, holding 2 soft drinks, giving her one (_her favorite, she notices, while he simply grabs what's around_) and begins to ask her how her day had been, to pass the time since the last thunder might have fried the electrical circuit in the apartment, she can't help but grunt an answer out.

As she continues talking with him, she becomes aware that, she is beginning to enjoy this. Slowly, surely; she enjoys the passing minutes, the jives and cracks (_he might be quiet, but he sometimes giver he one or two zings back_)

_Sometimes_, she thinks as she gives him a good night kiss on the cheek surprising both him and her with that small, but intimate action, _talking is good. _

So, when tomorrow comes, and she sees him go by himself towards the roof for lunch (_Meathead is off with Hikari, and dorky is probably harassing the girls swim team_) she goes too, opens her bento, and picks the conversation from where she left it.

Sometimes talking is all it takes.

----- -----

She loves the hot springs.

She remembers the first time she had been in one (_"Shinji" she whispered breathlessly, the tiredness of the battle finally catching up to her "You show off"_) and has to agree that it was quite enjoyable, if not a bit embarrassing. (_She also knows that for all her hopes and dreams, she is still far away from even coming close to Misato's physique) _

But right now, she thinks this was the best idea ever; she combination of the hot water and the sake is intoxicating, and she can feel her inhibitions slowly drifting away, going into the water with all her worries and leaving her simply mellow and relaxed. She sees Misato and Ritsuko enjoying themselves, reminiscing about the good ol' days with a smiling Maya and the other 3 female techs. She turns to hear a contended sigh escape from Rei's lips, the top of a mop of blue hair and red eyes the only thing visible, as she seems to melt into the water, _with the water_, closing her eyes and actually smiling.

And she squeals when a clearly inebriated Misato starts to molest her (_even if she does compliments her breast_) while Hikari, Mana and Mayumi giggle at that. She turns and shouts at her, but can't help the anger slowly melt away (_definitely must be the water_) at the sight of all them smiling, and she feels her own smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

And the fact that, as she walks away feeling light headed from the women bath, she crashes into Shinji, and she is looking straight into his deep blue eyes, her breath stopping on her throat, licking unconsciously her lips while she feels them part slightly make it the more obvious.

Perhaps it's the sake, or maybe the hot water, but her skin feels flushed and she can't help but grab Shinji by surprise, silencing his question of "What do you think you are doing" by firmly planting her lips on top of his.

And as she feels him slowly kiss her back, she can't help but reach the conclusion.

She loves the hot springs.


	34. Session the 34th Bored & ginger spice

She's bored.

She sighs in frustration as she realizes she _is_ bored.

She hates being bored.

She'll get annoyed and depressed, learning that there is nothing for her to do.

_Turn around on the couch, and dangle your feet on the back, looking at the world upside down, shifting your perspective of everything that has passed._

She will let out small, discontented sighs, like someone pinning away for some shred of excitement in her life.

_See him stop by, and feel his sight slowly caressing your bare legs, dangling helplessly by; Every now and then move them around; a small dangle here, a subtle stretch there to ensure he keeps looking at you that way._

She will place her head down, as the dismal reality of it all, the dissatisfied, gloomy and jaded daily occurrences of her day come down on her, rushing into her; like some sort of perverse feedback waiting to happen on her daily life.

_Think back to how he saw you during lunch, the shy smile he gave you during fourth class, the way he walked that much closer to you on the walk back home, how he clutched you by the waist when you lost your footing on the train._

She will grow tired and weary, and will turn on to him, a mischievous idea marring her mind, she will see him busying himself to keep his mind occupied as well, his concentration being broken by the ever-so-often glances he gives her; veiled and shy but enormously heartwarming and obvious to her.

_Shinji I'm bored._

She hates being bored.

_Let's kiss._

But it somehow becomes more bearable when she's with him.

-----

She loves ginger, the pungent taste of it; the powerful, overwhelming smell of the spice will drive her into a flashback of loving memories of home. She still remembers the smell of the juice from old ginger roots and the tea that was made as her grandmother would buy the young ginger roots on the town market square.

_What are little girls made of?_

She remembers the faint taste of it in her cooking (_seafood and mutton chops, chicken and sweet roasted duck_) and sweets (_candies and cookies, crackers and cakes_), in the background of beverages and drinks (_Ginger ale and ginger beer, hot coffee and spicy tea_)

_Sugar and Spice and everything nice._

She will sometimes stop before coming back to Misato's place by the lone bakery on it's way; every Tuesday and Thursday gingersnaps will be made and the smell will take her to place far, far away.

_My hair is the color of ginger and your lips taste of it as well._

And she smiles when she sees him coming out of it, looking left and right before darting out fast, because she knows that once she gets home he will have a plate full of ginger cookies for her and her alone, topped with a cup of pure, black coffee with just a hint of ginger and sugar, tasting like sweet and spicy toffee.

_You're made of frogs and snails mixed in with puppydog's tails but your lips, while a bit sour and nice, taste so full of sweetness and spice._

And when she sneaks to his room late, late at night, she will kiss his sweet lips deeply to savor the taste of the spice.

-----

_AN._

_oO…My oh my mighty; I have no clue what got over me with the whole rhyming prose that came over this._

_I rhyme everything in a quintuplet tones; I think I might have seen V a bit too much._

_But do not to worry my mates, I'm sure this too shall pass._

_I bid you adieu, I say farewell, Long live the night._

_For England prevails._


	35. Session the 35th Emptiness & Autumn

She hates having these feelings of emptiness...these pangs.

They feel like a disease; an affliction of sorts that won't leave. She remembers when she never gave a damn, when it was her and her alone; when things were simpler like that.

It's like feeling anguish and distress, watching every little step that you take, covering your self, your whole self in shame. She's had room and time to spare; to feel the emptiness, vacant hole within her being filled by a world of hurt and pain.

It's misery and torment, not wanting anyone to know, not wanting any one to care because _she _can't care, she _doesn't _want to care and she feels that if she lets it slip, if she lets it slide between the comfort of hating and begins caring just for a second, then everything will come tumbling down on to her, like the carefully crafted house of cards she has made to guard herself from an uncaring outside world.

_ Why haven't I...He'd never have...  
_

It's like a torture of sorts. And she's weary and tired and-

_ Whenever I think I've finally found my happiness, something happens to take it away from me again. Mama's death...The EVA series...And now this, separating me from the first one who loved me in years!  
_

She feels like this pain is ripping her insides, letting her out raw and bloodied and dirty and filthy and she can't help but think of it as something she doesn't want; like scabs.

Dark, dirty scabs that seem to fill her very soul, her very core and essence; like a disfigurement, and injury.

_ He'll never understand. Not this. He can't...  
_

A mark.

She hates the pangs of emptiness...of pain and hunger and guilt.

_ Damn you...damn you...  
_

But she hates them most because she knows they will soon become pangs of birth.

-----  
She loves fall.

She is sitting, watching the red autumn leaves falling, scattering to the ground.

_That pure, wide smile. The first picture that washed over her._

For her, autumn has always been a time of passing, of moving on. Like beginnings that allow her to have a clean slate, a blank canvass with where to start anew, to be born again.

_An chestnut haired, dark blue eyed face._

She reflexively feels something tapping against her head, and extracts one of those red-brown leaves that are falling and fluttering around her, caught between her own coppery strands; its red and brown, like her hair, but of a much darker color, almost like-

She closes her eyes and begins to remember.

_ And she remembered._

She remembers the first time he caressed her; physical contact taken in small baby steps; the weight and warmth of the body held in her sleep.

_"Well, there actually is one I like, how... how about...?"  
"You're kidding...That doesn't sound very good. Sohryu is a much better..."_

She feels a lonely tear making its way across her cheek, and she looks up and sees Shinji's face; quietly, solemnly.

And she knows it's time.

He extends his hand and she takes it to stand up.

Like a small child. 

_The innocent look when caught doing something bad; her first words and all those that followed afterwards..._

The way she often was sleeping in her bed with her clothes still on and her feet having kicked off the blanket covering her, and how she would hear Shinji's faint sigh, and then he would kneel besides her and start to undress her-

She closes her eyes, and knows that next time she opens them everything will be changed; the only constant being them, their feelings.

_How could she have ever forgotten it?_

Their memories and remembrances of themselves.

_"She had a smile that could melt even the coldest heart."_

She really loves Autumn and fall.

_-----_

_I knew I was forgetting someone back then...so I must first and foremost ask for forgiveness for forgetting; it's unforgivable, inexcusable...an unmentionable sin._

御免なさい 秋, アキ, あき

_That said I must ask 'him' for forgiveness as well. She deserves her place, no doubt about it._

御免なさい

_EB, out.  
_


	36. Session the 36th Sounds & Hands

She hates those silly sounds.

_"__Hey c'mon let's get something to eat."_

_"__You're buying!"_

It's late at night, and the moon hangs low, and there are couples on her way; Every one is paired with every one; holding hands, walking by, leaning into one another; sharing moonlight kisses and silly sounds all around.

_"__Why are you like this?"_

_"__I think this was a mistake."_

She scoffs and grunts, hurrying up and walking inside the apartment, pouring herself something to drink, she is trying to lose herself in the swirl of the beverage, the soft and bitter taste coming from it, trying to make a full glass fill her heart, drive away the dreams, the sense, the despair and search for something to occupy my mind from the thoughts plaguing it late at night.

_"__I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU!!"_

_"__Fine Asuka, as you wish."_

But as she lays her head down on her pillow, she can't deny it; he is in her head; his voice, his eyes, his face; the way he walks and talks and how he bows his head. He is tangled in her dreams, swimming in her thoughts…swimming forever in her heart and soul.

_"__This is Asuka, you know what to do, BEEP!__"__ "Asuka, it's me, I…I… (sigh) " click _

She hates those silly sounds; but somehow the sobbing just won't stop.

----- -----

She loves holding hands.

She has never liked public displays of affection.

_"__EEWW! Get away from me! Your stupidity might be contagious!"_

She is a well guarded keeper, always keeping her feelings at bay; it's easier to be angry and to lash out rather than to let some one in, and she rationalizes it by thinking that, if you rely on nobody, then nobody can hurt you.

It also means you will have no one but yourself to blame.

_"I can live alone I don't need you. I'll live alone. I won't cry anymore."_

She has been fighting a never-ending battle against everything in her life, her mother, her father her memories.

Herself.

_"I don't like boys. I don't like you. I don't like mommy and daddy. I don't like ANYBODY!"_

So when she finally broke down and cried, when she finally freed her self, when she finally accepted that yes she does care, yes she does feel and _YES! DAMMIT I DO LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT! _A new situation came to her life, a potential new problem that seemed to arise.

_"I don't wanna be alone…"_

She prefers privacy when it comes to showing how much she really cares.

_"If you go, then nobody will protect me, nobody will be with me."_

But right now, as she looks at the night sky slowly giving way to the morning hues, as she feels her aching eyes, irritated and red, stop shedding tears, and as his face first, then his deep blue eyes, and then his lips fills her every sense, she smiles softly, deciding that maybe, just maybe she can change.

Not a lot, of course, but a little bit...Maybe...With the right people.

One step at a time.

And she'll start by holding on to his hands and never letting go of them.

----- -----

_AN: This one was actually written simultaneously as Session 30th so...yeah...the love part should have been on that same one to give it a sense of completion, but somehow it came out only after I had already u/l the file into the doc manager.  
Anyway..._


	37. Session the 37th Secrets & being close

She hates keeping secrets.

She has never been the one for subtlety; that's Shinji's strong point. He is the one to be diplomatic, the one who always tries to appease anyone and everyone.

She is the one who makes everything go to hell. She will yell and shout, say she's being honest when in reality she is being rude, but it mainly because she can't stand secrets.

Like watching him from afar; the walls of their apartments a natural barrier that stops her from throwing her arms around him. She hates it when he walks next to her and she has to pretend he doesn't exist, when in reality all she wants is to hug him and kiss him right then and there. She hates the look of helplessness he gives her when he has to go with the other stooges, leaving her to walk back home by herself. (_But before the end of the day he will be groveling for her forgiveness, and after making him sweat a bit, she will kiss him, softly whispering, _"_I forgive you_" _into his lips._)

But in the meantime, as she sees him being led away, as his eyes whimper what his voice cannot say, as the cold air bites her legs as she slowly walks all alone back to her apartment to spend a lonely afternoon with the TV as her only companion, she can't help but feel angry, and wipe away a lonely tear.

She hates keeping secrets, especially when it's him the secret she has to keep.

----- -----

She loves it when he feels the need to be close.

Anyone passing them on the street will notice this; from the way she pulls him along, making sure that their hands are together, and suddenly breaking off, teasing him along the way, walking in step and suddenly breaking of into a runner's wild chase.

He will groan and moan calling her childish and spoiled, complaining about her nitpicking, but always, always keeping close to her, almost within arms reach, always in sight (_and his eyes will look at her full of adoration_)

Anyone watching them on the train ride back will hide an amused, pleased smile, a half smirk of sorts as they watch them go thru the motions of a couple not being a couple; a _lovely couple_ every one but themselves can see is in the making.

He will catch the person looking but not looking and not say a word; but he will grip her hand tightly (_yet gently as to not hurt her_) as the car speeds up; the sun reflected on the iron rails and the water and the glasses, the green and the golden hues quickly mixing themselves as the speed past them.

And he makes sure that his presence is shielding her from the glare and the occasional sudden stop; his body pressed against her, his hand circling her waist, his chin resting on the soft curve of where her shoulder meets her neck.

She needs to be next to him, because she loves the closeness that is he.


	38. Session the 38th Goodbye & his kiss

She hates saying good-bye.

"_Why are you leaving?"_

It's not only good-bye, but parting gestures and phrases in general that she hates.

"_Why did you leave?"_

She will never accept it to his face, but the reason why she flees his side whenever the alarm sounds, the reason why she walks quickly when they separate before classes ifs because of that.

"_Is it bad that I am so selfish that I want you to be with me?"_

Good-byes are the epitome of losing and he knows how she feels about losing, at all.

"_Would you stay with me if I asked you?"_

But there are times when parting ways is necessary, and when saying goodbyes, while hard for one is necess-

"_I…I c-can't say…I really can't…_"

He is laying there, not saying a word, and she can't help but cry, it starts as a brief trickle, and suddenly she feels like her own blood wants to claw it's way thru her eyes balls, falling thru her cheeks, pooling by her feet, streaming down her.

"_What will I do..? Please don't leave m-_"

And as she kneels besides him, pressing her hand against his, she can't help but fall silently into another sobbing wreck, the tears steamy and hot on her cheeks, and she distantly feels someone pushing her once vibrant red brown, but now ashen colored hair, and she feels those hands patting her back, trying to ease her pain and why can't the pain just leave her? Why does she feel this void within herself?

"_Asuka…it's all right…_"

And, evoking all of the pride and force of will that is left from the old Asuka Langley Sohryu, she quiets down her sobs, stifling the tremors of her body, kneeling next to his casket, pressing her still warm lips to his cold ones, feeling Rei's supportive arms embracing her from behind, the wetness on her shoulder telling her she is crying too.

_"__This is not a good-by, because I'll see you soon, my love__."_

She cries softly, uttering the last good-bye to the man she loves.

_----- -----_

She loves daydreaming about that kiss.

_"Hey Shinji…"_

She has caught herself more than once looking at his profile in class, simply staring at his face from the back. She will be typing on her red laptop, her hands intertwined at the bridge of her nose, and she just has to move her head so slightly to the left to watch him while he watches the day go by, his face tilted just so, his right hand propping him up, squishing his cheeks, while a sigh will escape from his lips every now and then as he sit silently looking out the window.

_"I'm bored…"_

She will blush and turn her face, being careful of never giving out that information, but it's now more often that she catches herself looking at him, at his lips, and she unconsciously licks her own, the pink tip of her tongue wetting her parched lips, and her fingers will lightly trace their outline while watching him do his homework, his brow knitted in concentration, his face the very picture of diligence.

_"Wanna kiss..?"_

He will sometimes look up at her, and she will feel the heat growing in her face, ad they will fall in their usual routine.

_"Have you washed your teeth?"_

At school, she will throw a ball of paper at his head, and he will ignore her, concentrating on his book, and his lips will start moving, reading in silence the lesson of the day (_Aishiteru)_ and she can't help but follow every single movement with her eyes.

_"Close your eyes." _

At NERV she will stare at her HUD, opening her eyes just a bit, watching him thru half closed eyes, remembering every curve of his face, the way his cheekbones show a little thru the baby fat, how his face would look once he begins to grow a stubble (_Will his kisses itch and scratch against her face?_) the way his eyes flutter as he concentrates on the harmonics of the test.

_"Your breath tickles me." _

At home, she will get up and go to the fridge, and hand him an apple and a smile and feel her throat tighten and stifle a whimper as he keeps reading, pushing the glasses he now has to wear (_And which make the similarities with his father even more obvious, at least physically_) biting into the apple, watching the way his throat moves up and down as he swallows.

_"I should never kiss for fun." _

And she can't help but run her fingers against her lips once more as she looks up the ceiling, submerged within the hot water of the bathtub.


	39. Session the 39th his Dad & swings

_AN: This one's long..._

----- -----

She hates his dad.

_"Do what you want with your life."_

She used to think how can someone as wimpy and spineless as that boring boy could have for a father such a cold hearted shrewd bastard? Was he in the initial stages of being an asshole, like a pupa before metamorphosing into something else? Was he destined to be such a dick head once he reached maturity, once he became of age?

_"I have other matters, I will not be able to come."_

She can remember the times his father had been nice to any of them (save for Rei) and she can count them in one hand and have fingers to spare. He had always been cold and detached, and maybe that was why he and Rei had the relationship Shinji longed for; always spending his time seeking acceptance.

_"What's her name?"_

But right now, as she is laying in the hospital's bed, unable to move, unable to do anything other than look thru heavy, half lidded eyes, as the exhaustion is seeping thru her pores, her bones, her whole body feeling so much more than spent, she can't help but notice how very much alike they are; the way his eyes soften when he sees her, how his mouth, usually stern and unyielding is drawn back, the way his breath hitches, almost as if he was about to cr-

_"Yui."_

Gendo looks up at his son and at her, a gentle smile and an unnamed emotion lingering in his eyes. And Asuka can't help but notice that if it weren't for the color of them and the beard forever adorning his face, in the rare moments when Gendo lets his guard down, letting his mask slip from his face, they are so much alike.

_"If I were very careful...do you think that, perhaps, I could...hold her?"_

And Asuka begins to shed tears too, tears for finally, finally being able to crack open that damn barrier of his soul. Tears for finally seeing Shinji's smile be reciprocated by his father, and how Gendo holds the child so with such fragility, like holding a dainty cup, a frail porcelain doll; so close and she knows, she just knows...

She smiles briefly, her fingers intertwining into his before answering.

_"Thank you."_

He says after a moment of silence, his voice cracking a bit but otherwise surprisingly cool and calm and collected.

And suddenly Asuka knows why it is so hard to hate the stupid Ikari men.

----- -----

She loves swinging in the night.

_"Asuka…it's me…" _

There is a park behind their apartment complex, and she loves to go there, and sit on the swings on them by mid morning; She will sometimes skip school, sometimes dragging Hikari with her, other times pushing Shinji towards the door so he can get started on her lunch.

_"I'm over here by the swings…"_

She loves going in later in the afternoon, and enjoy the warm breeze and the smell of the afternoon as it slowly turns into the night, how the bright white molds into a dim yellow, then into a dull red and suddenly it becomes a light purple, then a deep blue, then an all encompassing black.

_"I missed you…" _

She loves going in at night, feeling the chilly night wind, and listening to the sounds in the dark, the crickets chirping, the wind blowing, the water passing by. She will sit in the swing at let time pass, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of being lonely; there is this little pond there, where she loves to dip her feet during the warmest of the warm summer nights. She loves to go there during the high noon and lie down on the grass, enjoying the soft breeze and the feeling of the water on her skin.

_"Me too…" _

She loves going in at night because nobody can see them, and nobody expects Shinji to behave a certain way, to look at any of the women in his life like they are something more.

_"Wanna make out?" _

He can be who he really is.

_"Shinji you hentai…" _

She loves it because she can be, or she can also choose not to be; when nobody sees them she can put all of what makes "her" to rest; she can be herself for better or for worse.

When nobody sees her she can be in his mind, in his skin.

And sometimes she waits for him 'till school is over in a lonely classroom or in a utility closet to drink from his lips, or simply to feel him close, to grab his hand and walk back home.

But most of the times she just loves waiting for him in the park, swinging in the dark.

----- -----

_For some reason, I've always seen Gendo be vilified; he's always the bastard father who does not give a rats ass about his son, or his dead-wife's-clone-who-is-his-quasi-daughter (Sorry R/S'ers...I know this is a tongue lashing or a six shooter waiting to happen ;p) or the sad and tragic Dr. Akagi (another recurring character who is deep and underused, though Rochelle might have a thing or two to say about that) But I have always thought of him as a more tragic character...I believe that the dub in this case, very much like Shinji, Asuka and Rei tends to give him a bad rep, but if one scratches a bit at the tough exterior, I'm sure he is like Shinji in almost every way; I'm also sure that if third impact were averted, civilization saved and Asuka still in a coma, Shinji would have become more like Gendo, as Rakna's "The one I love is..." hidden epilogue shows in a more realistic manner than other try to..._


	40. Session the 40th School & getting it

She hates Saturdays until 12.00 P.M.

It not enough to have her enslaved over NERV related business.

Even if Synch Training is pointless, and Harmonics Test are boring, and Weapons and Logistic Management and Advanced Tactics are a breeze, she still dislikes the various fittings of her plug suit (_It's not her fault she's a growing lady, maybe they should just get over it and adjust the same stretchy vinyl and rubber material of the plug suit to her breast caps_)

But the fact that she also has to go to school like any other normal teenager is what rubs her the wrong way.

She sits in school, like a good little girl on her desk every Monday thru Friday from 8.00 to 4.00 But then they also request her to attend every Saturday for half a day! What are they stupid?

A girl needs her alone time, and an EVA pilot surely has more important things to do than to hang out in the pool or the track feeling the sun on her back, the sweat on her body and the leers on her body.

But as she walks back home after spending a miserable half day at school, after having to wake up at 7 on a Saturday for 4 measly hours of student activities that will do her no good, she cant help but frown and bitch and moan and grumble, stomping her feet every small step taken.

So when Shinji drags her towards the down-town station after school, to enjoy herself and eat out, to imagine for a moment that they are two simple kids from high school, out enjoying themselves, eating some ice-cream or a sweet treat, walking amongst the people that are window-shopping and generally doing other couple related stuff, as she feels Shinji's shy fingers interlocking with her shaking hand, she can't help but smile when she sees grown ups and elders give them a jealous look and gentle smile

And who knows, maybe next time she will convince him to play hooky with her instead of going to school on a Saturday morning.

She really hates Sundays until 12.00 but it's moments like this that makes it bearable to her.

----- -----

She loves it when they don't get it.

She will walk into school and all the chatter will reduce to a whisper.

She will go to her locker and take of her shoes, putting on those slippers, ignoring or stomping on the letters that fall from within.

She relished on the fact that no one gets why they are the way they are, why the stooges seem to believe he is better of without her, She enjoys it when Kensuke tries to get some logical answer from him, and why some students insist on pairing him with Rei, or some with that new student instead; how some say that Hikari and him are having an affair and enjoys it when Touji explodes and then tries to explain the cause for his outburst.

She laughs inside when some hint at other women in his life, even those he has never met. She smiles and decides to let them whisper and gossip and ask themselves why. It's funny for her to see how they explain all the possible angles and yet…

She knows all this, but doesn't feel threatened in the least. Sure, she will sometimes make a huge deal out of it, shouting and screaming and pushing them before exiting with a huff leaving them all behind.

But in reality, she will walk towards the small clearing nearby and simply sit on the small hill, and he will walk towards her after a while and, making sure no one is nearby.

He will sit behind her and gather her in his arms, and whisper sweet little nothings to her ear, making her smile. He will tell her they can talk all they want, they can gossip as much as they'd like.

It doesn't change the truth.

He's hers and hers alone.

So whenever she hear any of them talking about both Shinji and herself, and their thesis and hypothesis and ideas and interpretations, she just smiles inside while Shinji presses his fingers against hers.

She really loves it when they don't get it.


	41. Session the 41st Rei & dolls

She really wants to hate her; she wants to hate that…

_"Sohryu."_

That…

_"May I inquire as to what you are doing here?"_

She sighs loudly and remembers she needs to be nice with her, no more _wonder girl_, no more _doll_, no more _honor student_ or _teacher's_ _pet_. She stands outside her apartment and looks at her shoes and simply stand there silent for so long.

Rei, as always understand, and for the first time Asuka is grateful for her to silently steep inside and walk to the living room, busying herself while Asuka looks around the furnished apartment, wondering how long has it been since Rei actually cleaned and tidied after herself.

_"I just arrived this morning, I apologize for this mess."_

Asuka smirks to herself, not turning around but knowing that's what she does, even after so long, she still is able to get a rise out of all of them, to make Shinji stammer and blush, to make them jump out of their skin when her soft voice wafts thru the air and signals her unexpected arrival to all of them.

_"What is it you want to talk about?"_

And it's there, the same inquisitive look, the same titling of the head, the same dispassionate way of asking something in a flat tone as if you were asking for water from a waiter, or as if the Bas-_Commander_ Ikari would ask you about the progress in the synch training against the 7th.

_"Well I…"_

She stammers, and God does she feel like she is in front of the commander again.

_"I Wanted to…" _

She really wants to say it, and she knows she really can't hate her for who se is, can't hate her for loving him, and can't hater her because in the end…

_"Do you want to be Mai's godmother?" _

she blurts it out, and she sees Rei's surprised face, followed by a reddish, rosy hue and a small smile that makes her realize she is him and he is her and they are all really the same.

And even for her it would be too clichéd to hate her own husband's family.

----- -----

She loves the fireworks at night.

_"Asuka! Hurry up we're leaving!" _

_"Coming, Mama!" _

She has to put on this dumb stupid Kimono (_thought she is the first one to chinch the Obi on the red silk enjoying the way it looks and how it feels_) and those stupid _tabi_ socks. She slides the _fusuma_, and runs out while lifting the folds of the kimono like she would one of her long dresses, enjoying the crunching sound of the _tatami_ floor, grumbling as she puts on those awful wooden clogs and shuffle like a good girl towards the next door.

_"So are you looking forward to this?" _

_"Not really…Why do I have to go to this stupid festival?" _

And Mama just laughs at her, and pats her head, as Papa grabs her hand and they walk up to their friends.

Shinji is standing in the doorway, watching as she stops at the steps of the _Genkan_, takes the _zori_ off and places them in the _getabako,_ his mom pushing both him and Rei towards Asuka.

Rei is smiling at her, her hands behind her back and Asuka can see what looks like a box being held. Shinji is imply stuttering behind, and suddenly he takes the box and shoves it to Asuka, making Rei frown and call him a "big dumb meanie" for ruining the surprise, while Mr and Mrs. Ikari laugh at the children's antics.

As the grownup sit in the table, and the children sit in the _zabuton_ under the Kotatsu, Rei is smiling openly, telling Asuka to open it up.

Inside is a beautiful pair of porcelain dolls, dressed regaly as an emperor and his wife, and she can't help but notice the red silk kimono on the wife and the coif covering her hair of the same material and color, her eyes a bright blue, and the emperor has black painted hair with dark blueish eyes and-

_"Listen...you need t take it off before the night of March 4...All right?" _

Shinji interrupts her gazing at the dolls and Asuka frowns as she hears Rei giggling behind her hands.

_"Huh…but why?" _

Shinji stammers and blushes, looking away, and Now Rei is openly laughing and smiling before answering for him.

_"Otherwise girls won't marry." _

_"And why does it matter?" _

Rei looks at Shinji, elbowing him, smiling still so he can answer the question, as Asuka looks from one to the other.

_"Be…because…" _

And realization dawns up on her and Asuka blushes, just like Shinji does, and Rei just laughs a bit louder (_which for her is almost nothing at all_) and all she can do is nod and stare at Shinji in the eye, a soft smile playing on both their lips.

_"All right "It's a promise!" _

And so, as she sits with them all in the _washitsu_, the _kotatsu_ warming their legs and feet she enjoys glass after glass of _amazake_, enjoying its sweet taste and smell, clutching the small sake cup like she sees Mama and her friend do, eating one of those colored _arare_ crackers with soy sauce.

And then Papa and Mr. Ikari come to get them to carry them in their shoulders, She in papas and Rei in Mr. Ikari's, while Shinji is carried by his mom, the bright flashes lighting up the night in a million figures and colors.

And she blushes faintly when she catches Shinji looking at her, a blush on his face as well.

She really loves fireworks.

----- -----

_AN: Well, I wanted to do something to go with the good ol' 4th...and the only thing I could think of was fireworks...some research will show there is no mention in Hina Matsuri (The festival of dolls) about fireworks...But any festival worth it's salt has to have fireworks..._

_Well, I'm off, packing a picnic basket and doing a cook out and enjoying fireworks next to my own personal (At least until she decides to change hair color) redhead...I don't care if she's not natural...it's the thought that counts (Or perhaps she already gave up after me badgering her to color it that way.)_

_Happy 4th to all of you who celebrate it, and to those who don't but are celebrating something...Happy day..!_

_And if not, today is as good as any day to crack open a cold one...cheers!_


	42. Session the 42nd Cooking & the beach

She hates cooking.

"_Hey Asuka," Shinji asks, entering the kitchen still dressed in his tank top and sweats, enjoying the not quite cold, but still windy autumn night "what are you doing?"_

It's not that she can't cook, but she doesn't like to do it.

"_A cake." Asuka mutters as she sits by the oven, one of her cheeks faintly covered in flour "You got a problem with that?"_

For her, cooking has always been linked to being a girly-girl. The submissive, woman type. The house wife that will spend away her life simply happy with cooking and cleaning and keeping her little love nest clean and tidy, always dressed in an ever present kimono, and the ever present apron, hair done short and thus easy to conceal under a bandana while working at home.

"_But I thought you weren't good at cooking…"Shinji puzzles as he its next to her._

"_What!? Anta Baka! I'm not Misato!"_

She knows some (_Hikari_) who would kill for that kind of life, who would gladly stop pursuing anything else they might become for the sake of being the happy subservient wife.

For her, it bring back good memories of her grandmother always near the black iron pots and kettles, always in the kitchen with a knife slicing away vegetables and meats and making delicious stews and broth, links of sausages and pot roasts, and flavorful plates like _Spätzle_ (_though she dislikes it when they're so yolky_) and _Klöße_ (_Though she prefers potatoes_), and _Spannferkel_ and _Handkaes_ (_Although she would sometimes get a sore stomach from the cheese and sour cream_) and _Schwaebische__Kasespaetzle_ (_And she can still see herself licking the butter and the cheese with which they're topped_).

She remembers the spicy smell of _Senf_ and _Mittelscharf_ and _Weißwurst_ and _Sahnemeerettich_. But most of all, she remembers her desserts, the _Rote Grütze_, with the vanilla and the whipped cream on top. And the _Bowle_, the _Waldmeister_ giving it a sweet scented smell, the seasonal fruits changing the taste from raspberries, to strawberries, to water melon to peach.

But most of all, she loves the cakes. With the _Kirschwasser_ flowing freely form the first cut on the tort.

"_So what type of cake?" The boy asks after a moment of silence, before the metallic ding of the oven signals the wait I over._

"_Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte"_

And so, as Shinji sits and stares at the confection of overflowing chocolate and cherries and whipped ream, and cuts it delicately with the fork, still not used to the western cutlery and eats the first bite, she unconsciously holds her breath and waits for him to deliver judgment on her culinary skills.

And as his face lights up like the first time she tasted the cake and he compliments her and grabs another piece, before stepping up and putting on some coffee to be made, she smiles to herself and briefly wonders what it would be like, if Shinji would mind coming at the end of the day just to smile when she greets him on the door with a fresh baked cake.

She hates cooking, but for him, she would probably grin and bear it.

----- -----

She loves the beach.

"_This is a perfect day to take a tan; not to sunny, or cloudy."_

She remembers how she had to suck it up when they were going to Okinawa and how Misato had pulled the plug. She had no other thing to do with the new bikini she bought than to thread with the idiot and the doll to NERV's indoor pool and practice scuba diving there.

"_Hey Misato, where is Baka-Shinji?"_

So when Misato came and told them they had earned a time off, and that she was taking both her and Shinji ad Rei to the beach, she was so happy, Asuka allowed those two socially inept pilots to tag along.

"_Tell him no to come over and peep or else!"_

But, of course, Ritsuko said something about checking how this could affect a synch ratio and decided to tag along. And of course she had to bring Maya because Kami knows if it weren't for sweet little Maya, Akagi would lose her glasses and her mind.

So now, here she is all alone on the beach, Akagi ad Misato are with Maya lounging somewhere nearby under that dumb big white umbrella with the NERV logo on it, and Rei is being splattered with SPF 100 and decked in a straw sun hat, a loose camisole on her upper body to prevent _any_ type of sunburn, lest she come back looking like a _ganguro_.

And for some reason, Misato is pulling Rei into doing something (_something completely idiotic, of that she's sure_), and she's tying a bandana around Rei's eyes and then giving her a wooden stick resembling a sword and pointing her in the general direction of a watermelon while Akagi si simply muttering something, slapping her forehead with her palm, while Maya is simply looking up from her computer and giggling to herself.

And as she wanders towards a secluded place, she can see Shinji sitting on top of a sand dune, simply staring out the vast expense that is the Okinawan sea.

"_Hey, Baka! Wanna help me out?"_

And as she plops onto her belly on the towel and Shinji starts to rub some tanning lotion onto her back, she pretends, for a second that this is a normal thing for them, as she sips the strawberry juice box she got and the red liquid drips down her chin, she dreams that tomorrow they won't be battling any monsters from outer space, putting their lives on the line and coming back home to do it al again.

She sighs as Shinji's hands rub around a knot on her back, and the rubbing of lotion slowly becomes a massage, and for a brief second she entertains the idea of-

"_Oh, to hell with it!"_

When they come back, Misato is sporting a lump on her head and Akagi and Maya are laughing out loud at her while Rei is trying to understand the hidden meaning of the melon bashing and how to do it right.

No one asks what took them so long.

No one questions why they are holding hands.

No one cares why Asuka's and Shinji's lips are the same color of red.

----- -----

_AN: hmmm nothing to say except pointless fluff. The hate part actually came to me earlier today when we went for some "Authentic" German cuisine. I must apologize for any cultural inadequacies, since I know I mixed foods and plates from all around Germnay, but it has always struck me as odd how everyone seems to think that Asuka, like Misato, can't cook to save her soul, I really can't remember her even attempting to do some light cooking, but I suspect the reason she doesn't is because a) Baka-Shinji already does and 2) she is lazy._

_EB, Out!_


	43. Session the 43rd Changes & fairytales

She hates it when things change.

She's been back for just one day, freshly unpacked form the airport; the ride back home was a blur as she only wanted to hop on the tub and soak in warm water to let her worries melt away, and as she steps out, clad in her normal lounge clothes, she falls back naturally in her usual routine and already it seems like she has never been gone in the first place.

But…

She has been staring at him as he diligently begins to prepare to cook what she has asked, and Asuka notices the small, tall tale signs of changes in Shinji.

_Her Shinji._

He's a bit taller and a bit sturdier. He's a bit calmer and doesn't blush as easily as he did before. His back is straight and doesn't slouch and rarely averts his eyes when talking anymore, instead simply staring at her with those eyes.

Peaceful and clam and serene.

And she can't help but wonder who is he and what has he done to stupid, safe Shinji; the same Shinji who se has found herself missing throughout all those months back in Germany, the same Shinji she had seen in her dreams leaning over, making a move, making her stop and-

The same Shinji who is right now placing his hands against her back even as she tries to push herself towards his chest, huddling against something warm and impossibly solid and yet so familiar even the scent is soothing and calm.

He says something meant to be funny, and in response she swats him with open palms, and he slowly grabs her wrists into his hands as she keeps swatting against his body and she can't help but feel that she is loosing herself into his eyes so blue, into his smile so kind, into everything that makes Shinji himself and before she knows it, his lips are brushing hers, and her hands are holding his and she is on top and looking at the world through an upside down face before everything is focused on his lips.

When they resurface after that kiss, she knows the posturing and the name-calling will never be the same, that _Baka_ will now become a pet name for him, same as _Ecchi, Hentai _and_ Sukebe_. She knows they will now hold hands in public and seek the open space. She knows everything will be simultaneously newer and older, scarier and familiar all the same.

Still, she thinks, one of the many things that will remain the same is that she really hates it when things change

----- -----

She loves fairytales.

She remembers when she was little and mama used to read her some; her favorites would be the one of the Brothers Grimm (of _course_), and she would listen attentively as mama would brush her long red hair, as she would flatten Asuka in bed and tuck her in.

As grandmamma would do whenever she came to visit.

She would listen in rapt fascination to _Der Froschkönig _and_ Katze und Maus_;_Marienkind_ and _Der wunderliche Spielmann_.

She would stare with big bright eyes as grandmamma would pour a glass of warm milk and cookies for her before she would open the big dusty book and recite from it; she remembers _Rapunzle_and_Hänsel und Gretel_;_ Rumpelstilzchen_ and _Rotkäppchen_.

She remembers how those fairytales molded her belief of things; how frogs were not slimy icky creatures, but princes in disguise... how cats and mice would be able to play together and be nice.

And then as she grew up and life happened, she remembers how they became a guiding light for her; how her Eva became her fortress with no doors or stairs, Kaji became her blue prince; her knight in shining armor atop a horse so white and fair.

As she laid herself to sleep every night, she often wondered how it would feel like to be awakened by her one true love kiss; if picking her finger would hurt when she saw the blood pooling at her finger tip before falling into a dark, deep slumber.

She wondered in school if Kaji would kiss her awake as she bit into a red, juicy apple, imagining herself surrounded by 12 little Shinji's (_only they would of course be doing the chores not her!_), or she would imagine Misato as a wicked stepmother and Rei as a wicked stepsister (_and oddly she had no trouble imagining Shinji as a stepsister too_) forced to do chores upon chores to keep the castle (_apartment)_clean (_that one was harder as she would never clean to save her own life_)

And so now, as she sees the idiot sleeping peacefully in the bed (_His fault after all for being swallowed by that black and white striped sphere_), she wonders briefly if a kiss form her would wake the boy up, and the more she thinks about it, the more she bites her lips and inches in slowly, ever so slowly, to peck him on the lips.

She sees him stir awake, and runs out in panic, but with an exhilarated smile on her face, almost running into _wonderdoll_ who is walking towards Shinji room in her usual, peaceful steps.

She stops sharply and then turns back, before curiosity wins her over; she tiptoes silently to the door, slightly ajar and peers into it, listening as Shinji wakes while Ayanami simply sits and stares at the wet spot that were on his lips when she entered.

Through the safe barrier of the door, Asuka smiles lightly to herself.

She loves fairytales, especially with happy endings.

And right now, she feels like this is one of them.

_AN: Not sure where this came from, I blame the flu and having to baby-sit my 4 year old niece._

_The hate part was once again, based on Firestar9mm's unbelievably excellent "Upside Down"._

_Also, to those who care, the Waffathon 2007 contest will be starting December 2 (final deadline for all entries ends on December 1__st__ at 00.00 I think) so simply open a browser, type waffathon 2007 and click on the links (Protip; the ringmaster's name is Nutgar) All entries are anonymous, so you will have to read 'em all and guess which author wrote who (I know several of us Eva authors are in this, so and don't try to look for clues on my stories to see which is mine, I made sure to make it as completely anonymous as I could._

_Once again, thanks for reading._


	44. Session the 44th Her Birthday

She hates her birthday

She will wake up at 5:30 in the morning, and decide, after ten minutes of deep contemplation of the mysteries of a very familiar ceiling, to get out of bed.

She has never woken so early ever, only on this particular day; the memories and nightmares are so real, the crying and frustration all too clear.

The image of dangling, limp feet and a face with a sewn on smirk forever plaguing the halls of her mind with a well-worn memory bathed in insomnia and regret and pain.

So she walks to her desk, and on impulse extracts a picture of _her_ (_perhaps the only picture she keeps of her_).

A picture that has an image of a little version of herself, still with the same red hair and same twin pigtails, dressed in a red velvet dress with white shirt and a rose colored bow smiling happily at the camera while she holds her in her lap.

And she can't help but notice how _she_ is the very spitting image of _her_ daughter, same smarmy grim, same haughty eyes, but they are looking at the girl in her lap with such love, such tenderness and care…

She will refuse to let tears spring into her eyes, but the subtle tears will always plague her life.

So takes it on the_Baka_, and the slob; on the stooges and _wonderdoll_. She will take it out on anyone looking twice at her, and not even Hikari will be spared.

She will ignore Misato's cheerful greeting, telling her in a quick jab-like fashion if she is planning on waling around naked all day, she will follow with a relentless attack to her image, to her body, to her hair, she will attack Misato with anything she can remember, before turning away, never caring or noticing Misato's angry glare before it melts into a look full of remorse and guilt at her.

She will grumble throughout breakfast, snapping and storming out as soon as she is ready, not caring for Shinji's cry to wait for him as he's still fidgeting in the kitchen while she makes her way to the hallway door.

She will walk with vigor and a frown on her face, a palpable aura of hatred all around, people parting in front of her on pure instinct, almost like Moses did the Red sea before.

She will shoot a glare to anyone in the hallways, all of the student body immediately withering away.

She will get into the classroom and walk to her seat and simply plop down without regret.

She will not pay attention at her classes, not even bother to hide the boredom that is obvious on her face, and when Hikari will call her on that, Asuka will simply shot her friend another glare.

She will shoot jive after jive at Rei, getting angrier and angrier as she ignores them all, before she realizes that to get to Rei you have to get to Shinji first; so she will call Shinji names, hurt him with comment after comment until she mentions his mother.

That's when Rei will turn and walk towards them, and she can see it in her face.

That's when Shinji will tell her to stop.

That's when she will shoot a victorious smirk at Rei, simply standing up, and turning around, a flip of her hair and skirt being the only mention she was there at all.

On the way back, she will ignore Shinji half-hearted attempts to make her speak, instead simply grumbling a short, one syllable answer, before her patience is wearing thin.

She will explode and yell at Shinji telling him to shut up and not say another word, and she will watch with a pang of guilt and regret inside of her as the boy will simply stare down and at his feet, and Asuka will feel like she wants to say something to him, to tell him that she is so-

Instead she will turn around and keep on walking, grumbling about spineless _Bakas_ and wimps.

As she nears the apartment, regret will have set itself firmly on her chest; she has done this before; countless of times actually.

She has hurt him and felt bad about it after wards, but this time is different somehow; he has not said a word and has kept his gaze on the ground, and Asuka has been tempted to turn around and order him to drop the act and say something or else.

Instead she can't help but stop at the apartment door, turning around to face Shinji and mutter a quick apology, before going into the apartment.

As she steps inside she is greeted with the darkness of the living room, and Pen-Pen and Misato and Kaji and Hikari and the stooges and even Rei…

All of them are there.

In the middle of the table is a cake, and Misato is lighting up the candles on it.

As she starts to hear the first lines of the "Happy Birthday" song.

"Look at the cake Shinji made for you!" Misato will say with maternal pride, and she will turn to Shinji, who is looking sheepishly to his feet.

He will stammer something, before she smiles at him.

A real smile, open and honest and beautiful and sweet.

She normally hates her birthday.

But today, maybe she will love it because of him.

_AN: Yeah, it's corny, and sugary and sweet; it's contrived and I might just have thrown out the window and speck of self respect any of the readers might have for me._

_In my defense, it is Asuka's (fictitious) Birthday._

_Throw us a frikkin' bone here._

お誕生日おめでとう、アスカ.


	45. Session the 45th Christmas Time

She hates last minute Christmas shopping.

Somehow, they have gone and braved the never ending sea of rambunctious little tykes running around and screaming like souls possessed around the toy store to get Nozomi that stupid plush lion "Kyon" doll she had been (not so) subtlety hinting about wanting.

"Asuka! Stop playing videogames and let's go, I already got Nozomi's!"

Asuka will grumble for "_5 more minutes_" before she feels Hikari taking a hold of the collar of her jacket, dragging her while one of the other eager kids finally gets to try out the new console for sale on Christmas eve.

"Honestly Asuka, you're worse that Toji.!"

Asuka will turn to look at Hikari, ready to retort, before noticing how she is smiling that big, dopey smile she has, whenever she's buying presents for her and her loved ones.

"Oh God! We're going to the Tokyo-3 Sports Emporium to get him a ball to kick, aren't we?"

Minutes later they will emerge with a new set of sports shoes and track suits, and Asuka will realize the idiot's really are the easiest to buy; Hikari gets Toji anything sports related and he's a happy camper. Mayumi gets her stooge anything high tech, and both their glasses are fogging not a minute later. Mana only needs to talk to 'Sashi in that coy tone of voice she uses for him and only for him, and the _other_ stupid jock will be putty in her hands.

"Asuka come one, we still have to get Kodama's gifts."

She will let herself be dragged by her energetic, pig tailed friend from the food court after stopping to get something to drink, and she won't be able to help herself but smile with Hikari, as they continue to walk with all the other people in search of the perfect Christmas gift, noticing the way the shopping center is lit with lights the color of red and green and white and yellow, while tinsel is found bounding around and around the other stores in silver and gold.

"Eh… c'mon I still need to get my dad something."

In the distance she sees Shigeru exiting one of those stores that make such a show at trying to make older people (what is he, like 30?) seem young, while he and Makoto (sometimes she wonders about those two) chat with each other before running into Kaji, who also has several bags in his hands.

"A-Asuka c'mon!"

And suddenly, out of nowhere, like a bad scene form a movie or a TV show (or one of those Manga Rei seems to like so much) She will see Misato with Ritusko and Maya, also carrying their Christmas purchases, while Fuyutsuki finds himself chatting with the equally old (maybe even more) teacher, as well as old man Tokita and even Herr Keel about something or other, and maybe she just imagined it, but for a moment it seemed like someone just ducked behind Fuyutsuki, an glare coming form the shadows almost as if some orange tinted glasses had caught the light at the worst possible time.

"Asuka! I don't wanna ru-"

Her voice dies when thy both see Shinji and Toji, followed by Rei and…

It's then when she sees it, peeking out form Shinji's own bag; She thought someone else would have listened; she was sure it would have been Kaji, or Hikari, or maybe Mayumi… hell even from Mana she would have expected it.

But not from him.

And Asuka can't do anything else but turn to Hiakri, silently asking her how? And why?

"Promise me you'll act surprised when he gives it to you."

And Asuka says nothing, simply grounds her teeth, turning sharply and walking towards the exit.

"Asuka," Hikari is immediately besides her, panting as she runs to keep next to her. "where are you going?"

"To the music store." Asuka says simply, checking her watch as she runs to try and hide her blush. "I think I can still get that idiot something and have it nicely wrapped."

She really hates last minute Christmas shopping.

----- -----

She loves Christmas mornings.

Asuka remembers when as a child she would normally lie awake, eyes open wide and panting with the anticipation of what was to come.

She would be scope up by papa and be carried to her bed, where he would kiss her forehead and tuck her in. Mama would come then shortly afterwards and sit besides her; and she would pretend to be asleep, lying quietly and without moving on her bed, while peering through half opened eyes.

Mama would be staring down, face shrouded by the darkness of the room, before smiling softly and leaning in, kissing her forehead and easing her bangs, before muttering a soft "_Guten Nacht Schatz_" almost like a whisper meant for her and only for her.

She will then open her eyes and giggle to herself once the door had been closed behind, and lie awake in her bed, legs kicking softly against the cover, feeling warm and protected and safe before she would hear the all familiar clicking before the lights of the living room downstairs creeping under the door go off as the whole house is plunged into darkness save for the red and green and white lights going on and off at lapses in time.

She will hear her parents, their feet shuffling against the soft plush carpet as the big oak door to their room clicks shut behind them. She will then wait for some more minutes that will feel like an eternity for her before quietly kicking the covers, and slipping into her slippers.

She will open the door ever so slowly and tiptoe in the dark before she smells first the pine tree and her eyes see the lights of the tree in front of her.

But there is nothing around, save for the platter of cookies and milk

She will then grab one of the sofa cushions and plop it besides the chimney that is still roaring softly against the night, before she lies with her head propped on her hands, elbows digging into the soft plush of the cushion, her tiny frame nestled into the soft fabric within, staring up at the lights, imagining the big, fat red smiling man, coming down the chimney to deliver her presents for being such a good little girl.

Before knowing it, she will fall asleep with a smile in her face.

As she wakes up the following morning, she will boxes and boxes and towers of presents covering the tree, underneath and besides and pushing against the walls behind; the cookies will be gone, same as the milk in the glass, and on the little night table, a red plush hat with white trimmings and a white cotton ball on the tip.

And she will smile that bright wide smile every kid has during the early morning of Christmas day before launching themselves to open the presents, making such ruckus and noise that would wake the parents in bed.

And if not, the subsequent running, shouting that "_Santa was here, Santa was here_" before she launches herself at her parent's room landing between them and shouting...

Santa was here, Santa was here…

So as she watches what seems like someone repeating the same words, with the same gestures and the same actions… with dark blue eyes shinning and dancing with happiness and dark brown hair (a shade browner than her, but still not as dark as his) She can't help but smile even when her daughter's elbows her stomach, and kick her dad on the back.

Because Santa was here…

She really can't help but smile at that.

She's staring at him and she sees how happy he looks and how he carries her in his arms, twirling and smiling and looking so completely and utterly happy, and she smiles as well when she realizes that she loves Christmas mornings.

AN:

Well, I hope _he_ doesn't get mad that I took _her_ out to play again...

Anyway... I'll try and make this short and sweet.

I really hope everyone here has a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

I want to wish to each and every one peace and prosperity, happiness and fun.

It's a time to chill with the people you've forever known, so guzzle the eggnog (and don't care if you do it alone).

Me? I'll stay outside and stare at the starry sky, and watch _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ 'till I feel like I'm nine.

With this little poem, I will now take my leave, and once again say:

Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

EB, Out!


	46. Session the 46th Oshogatsu

She hates looking back.

She is not one to get hung up on the past, or at least she hopes that is the image she is projecting on the outside.

As she stares out of the veranda into the black starry sky, she can see as time slowly passes her by, and she looks at a huge block of time:

Twelve months, most of which she has spent in NERV, deep into that viscous orange tinted LCL, fighting the demons within, trying to quiet the voices inside. Fifty-two weeks she has passed fighting with others and herself, but mostly crying by herself…

Because of herself.

Three hundred and sixty-five days she has lived alone with other, the feeling of being by herself amidst a sea full of people who she tries hard to impress, people she tries hard to make them acknowledge her, to always remember her for what she sees herself to be.

Eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours of pain and distress, Five hundred, twenty five thousand and six hundred minutes of bitterness, jealousy and grief, Thirty-one million five hundred thirty-six thousand seconds of sadness and suffering and torture and torment.

And as much as she wants to remember, to reminisce and remind herself, in hindsight she knows happiness is not something she can easily have.

She knows she has done nothing to deserve it, or earn it, but like the air she breathes, time does become a part of her life.

Even if she knows that time cannot be stopped.

There is no way to slow it down, to turn it off, or adjust it.

Time simply flows and marches on.

And she cannot bring back time. Once it's gone, it's gone. Yesterday is lost forever, and if yesterday is lost, tomorrow is uncertain. She wants to look ahead at a full year of time, but she really knows there is no guarantee that she will experience any of it.

Obviously, time is one of her most precious possessions; she can waste it and she can worry over it. She can spend it by herself or…

Because the new year is full of time. She knows it's a new white page, a blank canvas waiting for her and only for her to give it her mark; Three hundred and sixty-five new dawns, Fifty two new sunrises and sun downs, Five hundred, twenty five thousand and six hundred brand new minutes, Thirty-one million five hundred thirty-six thousand seconds new to spend.

And as the seconds tick away, as the clock slowly goes forward, slowly killing the last remnants of the year that is left she can't help but reflect and think if she will be tossing time out the window, or will she make every minute count?

And as the clock strikes twelve, just like in the background people begin to cheer and fireworks begin to flare, she feels his trembling hands, touching her faintly on the small of her back, and she makes up her mind.

Time is only what one makes of it.

So she grabs time and intent; she holds on to the impulse and before she knows it, she is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, kissing him as the bells tolling begin to fade into the black starry knight.

And as she feels his hand going towards her waist, and to the small spot on the back of her neck, pushing her forward and towards, she makes up her mind.

She hates looking back because now she knows she would much rather live in the here and now.

----- -----

She loves the first things of a New Year.

Years in Japan are traditionally viewed as completely separate, with each new year providing a fresh start. Misato will then tell them that the day is supposed be full of joy and free of stress and anger, while everything should be clean and no work should be done.

So of course, Misato will say that all duties such as cleaning and laundry and all that should be finished by the end of the day before the _bonenkai_ is held with the purpose of leaving the old year's worries and troubles behind.

She will see, as they walk to the shopping district downtown, homes and entrance gates decorated with ornaments made of pine, bamboo and plum trees, and on the last day of the dying year will be the day to finish all of their business, stores will have a year end sale while Misato will drive them both to the ramen stand and order plates of _toshikoshi_, before taking them to the temple, where they will all make their prayers, while drawing their fortune from one of the stalls staffed by shrine maidens in their crisp white _kimono_ and red _hakama_, before they all extract their fortunes, and she'll watch as Misato and Shinji will tie their own to the trees before she silently pockets her own wooden charm.

She will listen as Akagi corrects Misato when she starts to explain why new years eve is so important here, but her interest will be piqued when Ritsuko says that "Celebrating the new year in Japan also means paying special attention to the "first" time something is done in the new year."

She will listen as Maya explains about how they celebrate many of the "first" of the New Year, such as the 'first sun' or _hatsuhi_ and the 'first laughter' or _waraizome_.

"_Because starting the New Year with a smile is considered a good sign, and with Misato present you are guaranteed a good laugh_."

But perhaps, her favorite is _hatsuhinode_ or the first sunrise of the year.

Before sunrise on January 1st, people often drive to the coast or climb a mountain so that they can see the first sunrise of the new year, so as the day comes to a close, with the sounds of bells tolling away as they are rung at midnight, they will all end on the couch watching _Kohaku_ _uta_ _Gassen_ on the TV, seeing how many of the pretty boy bands and those pretty girls dressed in slinky bright dresses sing before Misato changes it once the older people come out to sing _Enka_.

The night will be illuminated by the flash and flare of fireworks, and Misato, Shinji and herself will sleep on the futons in the living room, before Pen-Pen wakes them up to watch the new year's first sunrise.

She will wake up with Misato's gentle shove, before she turns to see the still sleeping form of Shinji next to her; she will frown and mumble about having to wake up the _baka_ before his mumbles catches her ears.

"_Asuka…_"

And then, she will smile when she remembers what Hikari told her about _hatsuyume_, the first dream of the new year.

"_It explains how the first morning is supposed to be representative for the whole year that has just begun._"

So as she wakes Shinji and watches him look around slowly, bewildered at having her so close to him, no doubt wondering if he is sill dreaming or not, she will playfully flick him in the forehead before getting up and stretching, turning to look at him over her shoulder, signaling for the veranda where Misato and Pen-Pen, along with a brand new sunrise await.

It's the start of a new year, along with the first sunrise it has.

But she remembers more the first dream they both had.

That's why she loves the first things of a New Year.

----- -----

AN: No fancy gimmicks, no over the tip rhymes this time.

Just a quick and simple Happy New year for all who read this.

Cheers!


	47. Session the 47th Owing & Aftermath

She hates owing somebody something.

She's Asuka Langey Sohryu! She's supposed to be the best there is, the true embodiment of what it is to be an elite Eva Pilot.

"_Mama! Look at me! I've been chosen!" She shouts as she runs to the room where she is waiting, where IT is waiting._

She's supposed to be self reliant, tough as nails, able to do by herself what others can only dream of; be strong, and unmoving, perfect in all forms; be it combat or growing up, handling pressure of any kind.

_She smirks down at him, ignoring the hot, scalding feeling of the acid dripping form her back, in pain but happy she has been able to prove him she is not some defenseless doll in need of rescuing, just as she was proud he proved he was her equal in the volcano_

So of course she hates it when she hears his whinny nasal tone cutting through the peace and quiet of the lazy ever present summer afternoon, screaming "Hey! Who took the last popsicle?"

Asuka can hear his feet scraping slightly against the living room floor as he makes his way towards her, uttering about no respect and no one caring and she just rolls her eyes at the over-the-top dramatic way he behaves for one lousy popsicle, or the last can of cola, or the last bag of his favorite brand of potato chips.

"Hey! You took the last popsicle!" he says outraged at her, even as she finishes unwrapping the frozen treat and putting it in her mouth to savor the watermelon taste, giving him a look through half closed eyes before muttering "Yeah. Sorry." In a way that makes it obvious she's anything but.

"B-but it was the last one, and it's my favorite kind too." He says, and she starts to see how his shoulders start to slump, how his posture starts to slump, how he is starting to go into the "Pity-me" Shinji she knows and hates so well.

"I really like it's taste." He says with pathetic finality as he turns around and that's when she has this idea.

"So, all you want is a taste?" She asks, eyes wide open, face still and calm, like a master poker player bluffing her way into a pot. Shinji simply stares at the frozen popsicle as she circles it lazily on the air and simply nods, expecting her to give him a lick.

Instead, she takes the popsicle into her mouth, and gives her several good licks, before she grabs the back of his neck, and kisses him deeply… the taste of watermelon and strawberry lip gloss intermixing with his own breath, only his is cinnamon flavored as opposed to her own minty fresh.

And as Shinji walks off in a daze, quiet and content of getting a taste of something he never knew he wanted so bad, Asuka turns around, blaming the creeping blush on her cheek on an ice rush that doesn't exist, before a smile appears briefly in her lips.

She hates owing somebody something.

But she loves it when she can pay Shinji in ways such as this.

* * *

She loves the rush of speed.

It's the feeling of freedom, of adrenaline and power mixed into one; she loves how the world blurs by when she is running, how everything around her becomes nothing short of vertical lines passing by when she skates as fast as her legs would allow her, how peddling in her bike can give her the exhilaration of feeling free and in control.

She loves every form of physical activity that demands she push her body to the limit and beyond, and yet…

She loves the aftermath; the quiet moments when all activity has ceased, the feeling of her heart bursting form her chest as she skids to a stop, be it running, skating or biking, be it in person or on her beloved Unit 2.

Right now, she loves the simple tranquility of riding doubles behind Shinji, as he pedals form home to school, cutting from the main way into the back ways, lush, green scenery in front of her eyes and bright warm sun dancing on her skin. She loves how something so mundane can seem so normal in a world so out of place.

He takes a sharp turn, an Asuka let's out a yelp of surprise, before she grabs onto the first thing in her line of sight which happens to be Shinji himself.

The result is the same as always; a shriek, a slap, a grumble of perverted tactics and an order to Shinji to "keep on pedaling, faster, FASTER, SCHNELL!"

None will complain about how her hands are still clasped tightly across his chest.

None will seem to notice how behind his back, while his rhythmic breathing goes up and down, she'll smile faintly, before lightly resting her forehead on his back.

She loves the rush of speed.

But she also loves the quiet moments of the aftermath.


	48. Session the 48th Cowardice & his music

She hates it when he's a coward.

She is staring into his eyes, as blue as she can remember, looking like blue steel, cold fused and fire forged.

"_Wh-what do you-?"_

She has finally managed to do what she would have thought impossible; rattle his cage, make him come out from his shell. He is standing in front of her angry, and pissed. He is no longer the whining child she takes great pleasure in picking on.

"_Let me g-"_

But right now, she can feel the warmth coming from his hands, as they are placed shoulder length next to her head, so close she can feel her hair brushing against his fingers.

"_Shin-"_

She can see his face set in a stern grimace, eyes that are bluer than blue that almost seem black staring at her own. She is staring at him and his face is slowly hovering over hers, and she can feel the air coming from his nose and mouth brushing against her face.

"_So you finally show me you have a back bone?"_

His face, his eyes, all of him are shaking visibly, and she looks away, muttering how she didn't mean it like that.

And yet…

There's a pause and he hold still.

She sneaks a look at him and sees he is inches from her, and in an action that is definitely not hers, she looks away.

She lies waiting for him to finish what he started, to go forth, to make a move, daring him to take what she knows he wants...

And his face is still inches away.

They stay like that, she is looking down to the ground, he is looking straight at her, heavy breathing coming from both of them as they keep the same posture, before she turns to look at him, her eyes narrowing and catching him off guard.

_And he is so close…_

She stares into his eyes, noticing the uncertainty, the fear, the look of disbelief before she frowns and mutters one word.

"_Coward."_

Before seconds later capturing his half opened lips with hers.

She hates it when he is a coward.

But that only means she has to take matters into her own hands.

* * *

She loves the music he plays.

She stands outside the auditorium, listening to him as he scratches the bow against the cello string and the low, grave tones start to come forth from within, tightening the fourth string a bit more and more before his soul explodes into music and tones and movement, playing his favorite solo piece.

She knows they all said they would be here at 10, but she also knows him very well, how he likes the practice to be perfect, how high his standard for himself when it comes to playing his beloved instrument really is.

"_Ohayo, Ikari-kun."_

"_Ah! Ohayo!"_

She can picture as he walks alone, his steps echoing against the parquet, and as she hears him from outside the room, she pictures him practicing day in and day out, again an again, sometimes with a quicker tempo, sometimes in a slow, melancholic mood.

She knows by heart the moment his wrist will flick, the instant his fingers will dance across the thin filament, pressing it against the wood, and how the tension, the bow and the hold of the string will start to create the music she longs to hear.

"_So what are we going to play today?"_

"_Pachebel's Canon."_

She loves the way his very soul seems to open up and be bare with every time the bow scratches the string, with every time his fingers glide across the instrument's fingerboard with the precise movement of a ballerina or a surgeon, not too quick, nor to low unless the piece demands he play it so.

She knows that he will stop from time to time to play around with the turning pegs; tightening the "D" while loosening the "C", even going so far as to change the strings in his ever present quest for a better harmonic, or to have a better _vibrato_ technique, and it's this change in the attitude of the fingertip to the string which causes the pitch to vary and makes her flutter and lose herself in the grand sounds that emerge from within.

"_That Cello is good, right? You just need to play the Arpeggio"_

And it is at this time that she will walk to her room when he is practicing late at night and take her violin out, softly playing her own tune to match his bolder notes, just like right now she walks to him, behind him.

And before Rei comes in at exactly 5 minutes and 43 seconds before practice starts, they will briefly play for them both and only for them both, some Mozart and Hoffman and Brahms and Bach, the sounds of them both mixing, combining, mutating and evolving into something so pure and sublime and—

As Rei walks in, Asuka will be shyly looking away to the ground while Shinji's face seems a bit flushed, and his lips are parted, and puffy and he looks as if his breath is caught there.

Rei will ignore it, but notice how they can't keep their eyes of each other, stealing short, shy glances before she hears Kaworu's voice asking with a laugh what is Shinji staring so intently at, followed by Asuka's shout that he is late.

They will then take their positions, and begin practicing the piece chosen for them, but through it all, Asuka will have a faint smile and Shinji will sport a blush.

And Rei will simply hum and Kaworu will look at her red eyes and nod.

They really do make beautiful music together.

But Asuka just loves the music Shinji plays.

* * *

_AN: By some sheer stroke of luck, I forgot to include the acknowledgements on last session, so, without further ado; the Love part was (correctly guessed by I.I and AS) inspired by a 4 panel comic of Monkeys taste, translated by… someone calling himself AT-Kun. The love part was inspired by my newest obsession: Full Metal Panic, and a huge thank you goes to the lovely Fraulein Kaname Langley for introducing me (__Harisen and all) to this wonderful series._

_For this session, the Hate part was inspired on another panel comic posted at by… someone whose name may or may not be a Croatian __Bundesliga player, and the Love was obviously inspired by the Evangelion:Death intro and interlude sequences._

_The end is nigh and hear, the plan is to hit 50 double short drabbles (100 in total) before closing up Asuka's Love and Hate, to all of you who have been since the beginning, especially my good, dear friend Hououza, thanks… to all new additions who still come and read this, thanks as well, to all of you who have reviewed, muchas gracias._

_Next up is a special request by the lovely and talented Water-Star, so stay tuned._

_Or not, whatever /shrug :3_


	49. Session the 49th Beautiful & Free

She hates the word _beautiful_.

"_You're beautiful."_

It's not the first time she hears it, but Asuka has learned the hard way that people always say things one longs and wants to hear. She has heard it come in a thousand and one forms; letters and poems and prose and songs.

"_Beautiful, you're beautiful."_

She looks down and remembers when those were the words she would always use to refer to herself, beautiful and imposing and attracting everyone's sight, be it by choice or by force. She remembers when she would have done anything to gain that attention, strike a pose and flip her hair…

_Sleight of hand and twist of faith._

She understands it may be due to the combination of looks and personality, and people feel a natural attraction to those who are in control. She knows she stands out with her bright red hair and sparkling blue eyes and taller than normal height and white alabaster skin against a sea of dark brown or black, small statured, high pitched squeals filled with passive eyes and nervous smile with skin that is not completely dark (_but not nearly as white_) instead a peculiar yellow color.

But over time, her look of boys and men have come to evolve backwards. Boys for her are nothing short of slobbering, disgusting perverts, intent only on getting into her pants, and fulfilling every perverted fantasy they have about her, dumb little perverts who deviants to the core, who will gaze with lust at her legs and thighs and face and chest, thinking countless repulsive thoughts on how to debase her and how to pervert her.

And so she smirks at the love letters she remembers that professed undying love and wonders how long that would stay once she becomes old and wrinkled all over and her beautiful body has become but a memory of old glories past.

Or will they still love her if she were to be scarred in a battle; her beautiful perfect face forever marred with crisscrossing scars (_and she anxiously feels her right eye_), or maybe her body sustains damage beyond repair (_and she cant help but feel a tingling sensation of web like scars on her lower back and middle and lower stomach, as well as on her left arm_), and she can't help but wonder, would anybody love her if she were like that? A dried up, disfigured hag, good for nothing brain dead reject in a comma, rotting away on a hospital bed?

So when she hears Shinji's breathless words simply saying "You're beautiful" with awe, his voice no higher than a whispered thought, she can't help but fumble and flush, because in all of her life no one has even given her a compliment so true and honest that right now she is glad the stupid wedding veil is hiding her face.

She hates the word _beautiful_.

But somehow, when it comes from Shinji's lips, it carries a much deeper meaning for her.

* * *

She loves being free.

Being free to do and say, being free to become.

She's seen him in the past and it's revolting. The way his head hangs low, the way his shoulders lump and his feet shuffle as if he was an inmate marching to his death. She thinks that he feels sometimes like he's in quicksand; the more he struggles, the more he tries to reach for a line to save himself ends in him sinking deeper and deeper still.

But she has caught sights of him being free and pure, glimpses unadulterated of what lies below the pale surface of his flesh; he is powerful, and decisive, and prone to action. He acts first before he thinks and normally that's when she can't help but stare at him with eyes full of wonder and worship and gratitude and but for a moment she is the girls she longs to be, the one who will be saved and then will ride on the back of a majestic horse before she reminds herself that she doesn't need any one and screams at him, ending the brief spell that makes them feel so right.

But right now, as she hears him, she can't help but feel a small tear trail down her cheeks, seeing how he worships her, how he pleads his life to her… like an ancient knight vowing to forever stand tall, to protect her, them… the time he is living in now, and she can't help but feel a warm sensation rushing through her body and her bones as his realization yields something precious to them both.

"_No matter how hard the fight becomes, I won't run from it anymore."_

It's his voice that sets her free.

_"I will endure."_

It's his voice and determination what gives her hope.

"_I want to stay with you."_

It's the quiet resignation he mutters when they are alone what makes her yearn.

"_Even if you can't hear me…"_

His words are breaking her, and she longs to scream and shout and cry and throw her arms around him and never let go.

"_Even if you can't see me…"_

Because she knows… she knows that he will bring her back. At all cost, and without regards to anything else. He will bring her back. Because the fault was his and she should stop blaming herself. He will definitely bring her back.

"_Definitely." He pauses for a second. he has no plan, no idea, only the will to do and fight. And somehow that's all that matters now to him. _"_And when the time comes, I'll be here to welcome you back."_

She loves being free.

And in that moment, the moment he utters the final words, Asuka Langley Sohryu is free.

* * *

_AN:_

_A while ago (__actually, on __9/19/07 to be precise) I received a PM form Water-Star where she gave me a couple of ideas for "Love and Hate"; she said: **"Hate" would be based on Asuka's issues with the word- Beautiful as it not only offends her but would remind of her classmates flirting with her in the past. However, when Shinji would say it, Asuka knows he's being genuine. Even if she was scarred by the Eva series."Love" could be either night-time and sneaking out during midnight with Shinji catching her in the act. Or it could also be Asuka enjoying the thrill of driving and being able enjoy freedom of making her own decisions. Of course it breaks her heart when she has finished her journey but with Shinji sitting by her side, going home doesn't seem as bad.**_

_So all due credit for this chapter's love idea should go to her, I really truly wanted to use them earlier, but inspiration never struck, until this moment. Here's to you PJ, **ich schaue dir in die Augen, Kleines...** because, in all honesty, "Hate" seems to be the one that approaches her concepts the most; I have no clue where "Love" came from, but the words Shinji uses come from both Retake 0 (or is it 3?) as well as the parting words at the end of FMP's "Continuing On My Own" Light novel._

_Off Topic. Formatting sucks. Don't expect me to go back and try to fix all those chapters until I hit vacations, or finish this story... as it is, the last two chapters, as well as this one and the last one will have ff . net's "new and improved" formatting._

Bleh!

_Wait… does that mean that I have to redo al of this __and the other stories chapters?_

_Sonofa-_


	50. Session the 50th She loves & hates him

_AN:_

_Yes, I know… normally these go near the end BUT they are here to serve as a warning: I don't usually like to use curses and coarse language, not because I am some sort of wimp, but because I feel that if you need to express a feeling or emotion and the only thing you can come up with is a curse then you need to go back to middle or high school and brush on your descriptions... and like any smarmy person, this will come and bite me in the ass (especially) in the hate part so if you don't like curses, then stop reading here, really._

_Last chance._

_Still with me? Ok, it's your call._

* * *

She hates to love him

She is watching him move around and can't help but close her eyes, and force herself to sleep but every little move he does makes her turn to se him, and so she sees him there, asleep and vulnerable, and she can't help but love him.

And she hates it.

She's been running away from those feelings, escaping them for so long, pretending it was better to be by herself and no one else… she has fought so hard to convince herself she doesn't need them and now… she hates the way it blurs the line between caring and love.

Because love is such an old fashioned word, ancient and meaningless in this modern world. An idea that reeks of ages long gone, values forgotten in favor of boldness and assertiveness, and somehow she can't help but feel a shudder down her spine at the thought of having some one there at the end of the day and in the middle of the night, a warm body to nuzzle with and a hand to grab onto and a shoulder to cry.

Care has the musty aroma one would find in old books, seldom used and long forgotten in a library and yet, her mind is filled with the images it beckons; warm night and parks at nights, sunny beaches and fresh water slides; fires made to ward off the coldness as she shakes because of it only for him to come behind her and wrap her in a blanket and hold her to him and mutter they'll be all right.

Care challenges her to worry for those that might be too far gone, ready to let go of it all; it makes her feel she has to do something and it pains her to see she can't and it's a never ending battle fought against the eternal tune of their own despair, and love dares her to care for the people on the edge of the night, just a breath away from jumping into the night.

She hates love because love will challenge her way of caring about others; care will defy her way of loving them.

This is her last chance, their last dance, this is themselves battling against the never ending tides, and the wounds so strong and the mountains so high and this is themselves never giving an inch under the pressure of being themselves.

And as she sees him sleeping so peacefully at night, she can't help but weep for him and for her, because she knows... _she just knows_ she has lost this battle she wasn't even aware she had been fighting against herself and it scares her to think that maybe her weaker self has won.

She hates to love him.

But when she sees him breath out her name in his sleep and her heart tells her that it's the strongest one in herself... the one who has been able to fight off the demons within and that she is right where she belongs, and that this is a reason to live and to fight on and she sees him smile in his sleep, she is not so sure she can keep on pretending she hates it for long.

* * *

She loves to hate him.

_In accepting death, I must now measure what my life was…_

It's just so easy for her now, that really, it's a pleasure. She sees him there, crouching, trying to fall into himself and she can't help but snicker wickedly at him, a demented, deafening laugh that seems to echo on her breast and she can't do anything but smile as she sees him try to delude himself into thinking he is worth something more than spit for anybody here.

Because early on in her life, Asuka Langley Sohryu was faced with what molded her, what made her become. She saw her mother each passing day lose herself more and more, and she saw her father as he began to slowly fade away…

_This is my will…_

And she knew what kind of world this one was; a world that favored the strong over the weak, the ones who did over the ones who sat and waited to be delivered.

He is trembling, and it's so entertaining she smiles and licks her lips in anticipation of what is to come, like a cat about to sample delicious milk and cream brought exclusively for him. Because watching him suffer is her greatest pleasure, her only source of joy…

_And yet…_

She imagines what he will do once the inevitable happens, once she bests him, and subdues him, once she pummels him to the ground, once the invincible Shinji is nothing more than bones and flesh and tendons and sinew because **HE DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE WHO HE IS** and so she shivers in sickening anticipation of that.

But she knows the process in itself will be repeated over and over, and every time he will gain some little hope that will make the downfall feel that more satisfying and yet the thought of watching him be happy for just a flicker of a moment…

It makes her feel like shit, and his screams of rage and despair and utter terror sound different than usual to her ears.

She should feel content and full, but she can't. She can't let go, forever locked in an eternal battle of wills. And it's that face, the face he now sports, the face of fear and despair and of naked terror that consumes his soul….that is the face that looks best in Shinji Ikari's face.

Because if she can't live, he shouldn't live, and if she can't know happiness, then why should he?

And yet…

_So stop…_

It's hard.

_So don't say anything…_

She can't...

_So don't leave me…_

She wants to…

_Please…_

But it's so _fucking_ hard.

_Don't make me…_

His words are breaking her, even if she tries to remain and endure and _HOW THE HELL DOES HE PLAN TO CONTINUE GOING ON? WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE WANT TO KEEP ON?_

And as she hears his reason, and as she watches him go, she can't help but feel a little bit of her chipping away, slowly breaking apart the façade and she hates him even more. She loathes him and despises him and just looking at him makes her sick and want to throw up.

She hates him… she really hates him…

So, why can't she? Through the haze of tears and sobs, though the pain of cuts and bruises, through the knowledge that he is the worst kind of scum to ever appear on this ugly, sickening word…

Why does it hurt so much when she used to love to hate him so?

_Where did I go astray?_

* * *

_AN: _

_A quick explanation, to those wondering: this one was hard, the love one, especially was hard. Some might LOL at me, but for me writing is an exercise in characterization; you can't write about what you don't care, so every little piece I wrote I had to put myself in her shoes, think like she thought, feel like she felt and so the love part was frightening, and it was also very intense; it left me tired, physically and emotionally spent, but I think I did a good job there (I hope ) _

_Ok, for real now. How much time has it passed? A year? Almost two? This is a long time for me, and times to bring Asuka's love and hate to an end. This chapter, the final chapter was always planned to be "she hates to love him, she loves to hate him"… ever since I began to wonder if I was doing it wrong or not, so stop bitching about cop-outs. _

_I want to take this opportunity to thank some very important people, besides you the reader, casual or otherwise:_

_Kaname, gracias por tu ayuda y apoyo, mucho de estos últimos te los debo a ti._

_Klasnic, a pesar de todo, gracias._

_Hououza, You've been with me in this from the hopeful start to the bitter finish "We few, we lucky few" indeed… thank you mate._

_The people from Tokyo3cn, especially AsUkA_ _LAnGlE__ (hope I get it right) _是,是否你跟谁是正懂我以及所以因为我正知道你存在于的事被当心把那个决定翻译成我的话当值的时候谢谢你考虑.

_Tokster, See I told you. Thank you._

_And last but not least to each and everyone of you who bothered to stop and read, figured it wasn't half bad and stuck with me, regardless of reviewing or not, thank you, I hope that my conceptualization of what makes Asuka "Love and Hate" Shinji was not completely OOC (much) ._

_Take care, and until we see each other around again._

_This is EB, taking a bow, exiting stage to the left, and I'm OUT!_


End file.
